Star Trek: Invincible
by Grand Admiral Harmon
Summary: Once a captain, Adam Tryke has spent six years in prison. Now, he has a been given a chance to redeem himself. Serve onboard the newest Federation starship and overcome his greatest enemy: himself.
1. Episode 1: Introductions

**Episode I: Introductions**

_Captains Log Stardate 57112.3: We are continuing our mission in the Delta Quadrant, exploring the border closest to our own Quadrant._

"Captain Tryke," the bulky lieutenant Bolian science officer called out from his station, "Sensors are picking up a nebula about six light-years from our current position."

Adam sat with his right ankle resting on his left knee, resting his right elbow onto the propped up leg. This ship was the closest thing to home he had. Everything else was simply nonsense.

"Commander Lukas," Adam said, cocking his head slightly towards the beanpole figure of his first officer, "How long before you are supposed to take command of the _Overland_?"

"Five days sir," Lukas replied, glancing back at him.

"You need experience commanding a starship," Adam mused, then stood up saying, "You have the bridge today Number One. I'll be in my ready room. Inform me if we come across anything more worrisome then wisps of energy."

"Aye, aye sir," Lukas nodded, moving over to sit in the Captains' chair.

Adam left the bridge in the capable hands of his first officer.

_Six years later, Stardate 63442.5._

"Adam Tryke," a man said nearby him, pulling Adam slowly out of his blissful state of sleep.

"Is that my name?" Adam grunted, pushing himself up to lean with his back against the wall, "Oh, yeah, it is. I've never been good coming out of being stunned. I always seem to forget my own name. Anyways, who are-blast it. Don't tell me."

The man cocked an eyebrow in confusion, "Tell you what?"

"You have come to send me to Vulcan therapy," Adam accused the balding man, "I refuse to allow a pointy eared logically inferior green blood touch me. It was a Vulcan who put me in this joint you know. Now, who are you?"

"I am Admiral Jean-Luc Picard," the man replied.

"Also known as Locutus," Adam nodded slightly, "With what I did before I was able to join Starfleet, we all knew Locutus; the man singled out to be the voice of the Federation by her Majesty the Borg Queen herself."

Picard didn't like talking about that dark period of his life, so instead said, "You got put in here because of a fight against your captain in the Delta Quadrant."

Adam scoffed, "I _was_ the captain. That Vulcan I told you about changed the records, I know it."

"Why would he change those records?" Picard asked.

Adam blinked at Picard and asked, "Does it matter?"

"Yes, it does," Picard said.

Adam tried not to roll his eyes. "It was a top secret mission," he simply said, "And I have received no new orders to divulge that mission."

"Who gave you the orders?" Picard pushed.

"I'm not at liberty to say," Adam stated.

Picard sighed, knowing they weren't going to go anywhere with this conversation, "Well, I can let you know you are not going to Vulcan therapy. "

Adam slightly brightened, "Then you are my new best friend. Why are you here then? Do your questions have a purpose?"

Picard started to explain, "I need someone of your experience to help us in the new war that is beginning to unravel around us."

"And how am I to help exactly?" Adam asked.

Picard mentally braced himself, "I need you to act as tactical officer of the newest addition to the Starfleet family: the _Invincible_-Class starship."

Adam cocked an eyebrow, "Never heard of it."

"It's the perfect anti-Borg ship," Picard replied, the simplicity to the statement telling a whole story in itself.

"Rotating shield?"

"Yep."

"Modulating phasers?"

Picard smiled, "Actually ion based phasers and what I call time-flux photons; better known as quantum torpedoes."

Adam was amazed at that, "And your warp capacity?"

"Transwarp."

"Who do you have commanding this beautiful darling?" Adam asked like a man who had seen the girl of his dreams.

"Joshua Stubbs as Captain and Nathanial Trust as First Officer," was his reply.

"Is this a joke?" Adam demanded.

Picard frowned slightly, "Is there a problem?"

"I knew Stubbs at the Academy," Adam explained, "A hothead. Likely to ram his own ship into a star. Trust is just a power crazed maniac that would sell his own mother if that would guarantee him a position on the Federation Council."

Picard crossed his arms and firmly said, "You will get over your differences."

"And if I don't want to?" Adam asked bluntly.

"I am authorized to add another five years to your stay here. It would be like you never started your sentence."

Adam sighed, "Fine. I will love to be an actual officer again. When do we leave?"

Picard smiled, "Right now."


	2. Act 2

**Act 2: Reunited**

The shuttle speed through space towards the orbital yards above Earth. Adam sat in the passenger seat behind the pilot, a human woman of twenty-three years. He hadn't talked much; not that she had encouraged him in any way. As soon as he had gotten on, she had warned him that she was married and would turn him into a unic if he tried anything.

Not that he much cared. He was finally out of that forsaken spit hole called a penal colony. And he was able to finally start reading the newest addition to the set _History of the Federation _written by Sennark, a Vulcan historian. He barely turned the fourth page when the pilot called back, "There she is."

Adam looked up and what he saw made him stand and lean over the back of the copilot's seat. In front of them was a ship, the saucer section shaped like an egg, a cross between the Galaxy and Intrepid class starships. The hull was connected by a stubby section connecting the saucer and hull. The nacelles were long, jutting up and back.

"I-," he said, smiling broader then he had done in six years.

"I know," the pilot agreed, not really understanding his feelings although she was amazed all the same.

"Shuttle _Laxedor _to _Invincible,_" she said, tapping the comlink, "Requesting permission to dock."

"Permission granted," a female voice replied, "Proceed to shuttle bay 3."

"Copy that," she acknowledged, tapping it again.

The shuttle glided behind the nacelles and slid into the shuttle bay which was at the base of the hull. The shuttle landed smoothly onto the shuttle bay floor. Adam quickly strode out of the shuttle into the bay once the doors to the pod had opened, and a tall Vulcan that stood a tip of the ear and above taller then he himself, greeted him.

"Captain Tryke," the man said, "Captain Stubbs is waiting for you."

"It's nice to see you too Merlek," he grumbled as the Vulcan lead him towards the doors that led out of the shuttle bay.

"Really?" Merlek asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise, "I must say Captain, seeing you again is pleasant and invited."

"I was being sarcastic," Adam snapped, "Just take me to Stubbs."

"Alright Captain," Merlek said, his face visible falling. Not that just anybody would notice, but Adam knew him well enough to know the signs, "I was hoping we could resume our friendship now that you have returned. Perhaps we could resume the holo-suite activities we did before hand."

"Perhaps," Adam replied as they left, the doors opening as they walked through, going towards the turbo lift.

"And we could resume the meditation sessions Captain," Merlek voiced hopefully.

Adam stopped and turned to him. "Listen Commander," he stated, "First off, I am not a captain. The title is no longer truly mine. So, stop calling me that."

Merlek nodded. "I understand."

"I understand why you did what you did," Adam continued, "I would have done the same thing if I had been in your position. But, I still can't accept it. It will take time."

Merlek sighed. "May I still call you 'Borg'?" he asked.

Adam shrugged. "If you want to Commander," he said, "But, I am not going to do anything with you. Are we clear?"

"Yes," Merlek said, an amused smirk on his face. They started again their path towards the turbolift.


	3. Act 3

**Act 3**

The two men strode across the bridge, towards Stubbs' ready-room. As they walked Adam threw a glance across the room. It had a lot of the same layout as the _Galaxy_-Class starship, with one major difference: the consoles connected to the little divider were more spread out, as the room had an oval shape, which allowed the divider to stretch further, before dropping off it two small steps. Beyond that, it was virtually the same.

The crew for the main part was on board, but, by the looks of it, the helms and science officers had not yet arrived. One of the officers, a Bolian lieutenant, threw a glance from his station as they walked by to size up the newest officer to arrive. Satisfied that it was a mere human and no one of more import, he returned to his duties at navigation.

Merlek tapped the door chime to the ready room, and a particularly confident voice shouted, "Come in! Come in!"

It was with some apprehension that Adam walked with the Vulcan into the ready room. It was of a neat tidy design, a desk at the other end of the room, a small rise in the room where a table was and a small couch that three people could sit on. Behind the couch was a rectangle window, where one could take in the expanse of space. One the table was a piece of artwork, a liquid blue shaped like a wave with a small platinum model of the ship inside, in the imagery of a ship caught in the time and tranquility of space.

But, that did not interest Adam as much as the two men in black uniforms sitting in-front of him. One sat on his side of the desk, a short human, red-headed, with freckles galore which made it look like he had a heat rash on his face. On the other side was a man that when he stood would come close to six foot one. With short black hair, and a look that seemed to be as tired and hard as Adam had come across in a while, Joshua Stubbs hadn't much changed in the ten years since they had last seen each other, at least looks wise.

"Ah!" Stubbs said, a smile spreading across his face, "Come. Sit down, Tryke."

Adam sat in the chair by Trust, who gave him a toothy grin, one which he gave when he was around something he found revolting. It wouldn't have been anything personal, had it not been that Stubbs had told him about their tactical officer before he arrived. But, Adam did not look at him, but stared straight at Stubbs. He was a little confused by what seemed the genuine happiness Stubbs displayed by his arrival.

"It's been a long time Adam," Stubbs remarked, "When was it again."

"Last time was at graduation," Adam replied.

"I don't quiet remember what happened," Stubbs mused, "I remember us doing something together."

"You broke my nose," Adam reminded him, "and I tried to ensure you would never have kids."

Stubbs laughed, a clear sounding sound that Adam had never heard him do before. "Those were good times," he sighed.

"If you want to say something you better do it," Adam butted in, losing patience with this perceived false cheerfulness from an old enemy.

"I agree," Trust said, his Georgia accent coming through as he spoke.

Stubbs sighed. "Fine," he said, "You are the tactical officer. This is not your ship. You will follow my orders with exactness. But, do not believe that you cannot speak freely. I am all ears to ideas. We shall leave at 1600 hours. I suggest you make time to get your physical and settle in your quarters. Merlek will show you the way."

"Very good sir," Adam rose, "Is there anything else?"

"We are having a dinner with all the senior staff at 1800," Stubbs said, "I expect you to both be there. You are dismissed."

"Yes sir," Adam was quiet happy to be left on his own.

* * *

The door closed behind the two men and Stubbs leaned forward, putting his chin into his hand. That had not gone as well as he had hoped. But, it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

"Tryke is a swine," Trust snorted, "He didn't show you the respect you deserve."  
"We haven't exactly had the most cordial relationship," Stubbs remarked, "He still has a lot of resentment bottled up inside. I had hoped the command of his own ship would have allowed his to release a lot of it."

Trust frowned slightly. "You mean he's always been like this?"

"It was worse when we were in the Academy," Stubbs explained, "That fight after graduation was the lest violent that we had. He always had to pick a fight."

"And to think," Trust remarked snidely, "Admiral Picard wants us to keep an eye on him so a year from now he command this ship."

"He's a good officer," Stubbs said, "And interestingly enough to you, I trust him with my life. I only wish the feeling was mutual."


	4. Act 4

**Act 4**

Ensign Jonathon Lendon stepped off the transporter pad, taking a wide-eyed look around the transporter room. He couldn't believe it. He had graduated from the Academy a week ago. And he was now serving aboard the most advanced starship in the Fleet. Not that he had wanted to be here. Everyone in his class had tried to get onto the _Defiant_ or _Enterprise_. They were after all the most famous ships in the Fleet.

"Move along son," the transporter chief, a skinny and curly-haired blond man said, "I need to beam up some medical supplies and our CMO."

"Oh," Jonathon said, hurrying off the transporter pad, "I'm…I'm sorry."

"Listen son," the man said, "If you are going to make it out here. You had better figure out that you need to be quick on your feet."

"What's CMO?" Jonathon asked as he walked to the doors.

"Chief Medical Officer," the man said, keeping an eye on him, "My name is Transporter Chief James Gardner."

"Ensign Jonathon Lendon," he said smartly, then looking around asked, "I thought an officer was supposed to meet me here?"

"Another thing you'll learn," Gardner said, "Not everything happens like they say in the Academy."

Jonathon's' eyebrows rose in surprise. He had never thought about that before. That maybe things in the real world were different. Perhaps. But, his professors had never really talked about it.

_No_, Jonathon thought. _This guy is nothing. He's not even the tactical officer._

He turned and walked out of the room, into a corridor. He barely left before he crashed into a man walking with strides down the corridor. He looked up and saw the commander's pips and he dropped his jaw.

"I'm…I'm…so sorry," Jonathon blubbered, "I…I didn't mean to."

"Calm down Ensign," the man replied, "It's all right."

"But, if I had been taking care," Jonathon was shaking his head, "I could have seen you there."

"Just got out of the Academy?" the officer asked, knowing full well that he was.

"Yes sir," he replied, "Last of my class."

The officer frowned slightly. "A bit of advice," he said, "Don't advertise that around."

Jonathon reddened and dropped his head slightly. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"I'm Commander Adam Tryke," the man said, "The tactical officer here. And you are?"

"Jonathon Lendon," he replied, still not looking up at him, "Ensign Lendon. I'm going to be the helms officer."

"Very good Johnny," Tryke nodded, "Let's go to our quarters. They're in the same vicinity. Then perhaps we can have a meal together in the mess hall."

Jonathon looked up, his eyes wide. "Are you serious?"

"Of course Ensign," Tryke clapped him on the shoulder, "This is your first assignment. Nothing helps put a young Ensign on the straight and steady then an officer with experience.


	5. Act 5

**Act 5**

Sarah King stepped off the transporter pad, picking up a couple medical cases that were on the pad. Following her was Jemma Grax, picking up the remaining cases with her.

"How's it going James?" Sarah asked as they began to walk towards the doors.

Gardner sighed. "I'll be better once we're on our way," he admitted.

"Tell your Jamie Happy Birthday for me," Jemma said, her voice heavy with a Betazoid accent.

"We're having a birthday dinner at my place at 20:00 hours," James said, "She really wants you both to be there."

"I would love to," Jemma smiled, "I might just do that."

"I'm going to have to decline," Sarah sighed, "I need to get the physicals done by the end of the week. Oh, that reminds me. Jamie is due for a prenatal checkup."

"I'll tell her to stop by today," he nodded.

"Very good," she said, "Sorry to run, but, we need to get settled down."

"I don't mind," Gardner said, "As long as Jemma stops by at least for cake."

"It's a deal," Jemma laughed and they strode out of the room, carrying the bulky cases as they walked.

As they walked, they continued talking, much like the old friends they were. They had both served with Stubbs on the _Akira-Class Catspaw_. He had personally asked for them to transfer with him to the _Invincible_, and despite the rumors of him having a thing for the both of them, he was just one of their dearest friends. But, the rumors had only brought them closer, not apart.

Sarah King was the older of the two women. She had blond hair, with streak of gold in it. She stood about 5'10. She was from Earth and had served in Starfleet for 7 years. She had joined the Fleet due to a young man, who, despite a troubled past, had been very kind and loving to her. She had dedicated her life to the field of medicine.

Jemma on the other hand, was from Betazed. She stood 5'9, and had long full black hair. She was quiet a hit among the male members of any crew she served on, and her calling in life made her even more approachable. She was a councilor, and her out going friendly attitude was greatly appreciated by everyone.

"So," Sarah said, "What do you think of our new ship?"

"Very lovely," she said, "Like a muscular man who doesn't mind walking around with his shirt off."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Is that all you ever think about?" she asked.

"As an empath," she smiled, "I can feel and hear any thought a man has, and I find it very invigorating. If it wasn't for James Harris, I wouldn't mind taking a shot at some of the 67 males on this ship."

"You still going out with him?" Sarah asked as the approached the turbo lift.

"Yes," she winked, "And I feel something good is going to come out of it. If you want, I can steer you towards a man."

"Invite me to the wedding," Sarah laughed, declining to answer. Her heart was not ready yet for a new man; her last relationship had ended badly.

They reached the turbo lift and Jemma tapped the button for it. For a few seconds they waited for it to arrive.

"I hear we're getting quiet the tactical officer," Jemma said.

"I'll get to meet him very soon," Sarah replied, "He'll have to come for his physical soon."

* * *

"Well," Sarah said, "You seem to be doing just fine Commander Mollan. Everything checks out."

"You can call me Sam doc," the man sitting on the table said, "I'm not a machine after all. I'm only the Chief Engineer."

"It's not proper for you to say that," she said, turning slightly away from him.

"Be that way," he teased, "If there is nothing left, I'll be on my way back to my engines."

"Yeah," she said, downloading the data from the medical tricorder she held into the main computer, "You can leave."

"Alrighty then," he said, jumping down and striding away, said, "You know, if you ever need someone to give you a physical, I would be more than happy to give you one."

She turned to him, raising an eyebrow, "Say that again?"

He paled slightly, "Forgive me. I'll…just…go."

He walked out of there, and she could hear him cursing himself for once again saying something stupid. She wouldn't have been able to hear him through closed doors had he not yelled it. She smiled, realizing that he simply was shy and when he would try to ask a girl out, he always ended up making a total idiot of himself.

_Poor boy_, she chuckled to herself.

The door slid open again, and she turned and nearly dropped the stuff she was holding in shock. There he was, standing in the same room as her. And by the looks of it, he was just as shocked, then pure hatred flickered across his face.

"Adam," she said, trying to figure out what to say, "I didn't know you were-"

"Out of prison?" Adam finished the thought for her.

"Well," she shook her head, "Going to be serving on here with us. You must be the tactical officer the councilor told me about."

"Yes," he scoffed, "I am."

"I was hoping to see you again," she honestly said, "Maybe hang out sometime."

"Let's get one thing straight," he snapped, "I can forgive Merlek for what he did. He's Vulcan, it's only logical what he did. You, on the other hand, you destroyed me. I can never forgive you for what you did. I do not care to see you. I came here for my physical; but seeings as you are by yourself, I will await Nurse Nelix's return. I will never allow you around me with any medical problems again."

With that, he turned around, and stormed out.

* * *

Back on the bridge, everything was ready to go. Merlek was at navigation, Ensign Lendon at Helm, Captain Stubbs and Commander Trust sitting in their seats, and Adam Tryke was at his station.

"Are we ready Mr. Mollan?" Joshua called into the comm.

"Ready and waiting," Sam's voice came back.

"Then, Mr. Lendon," Stubbs said, "set in a course for Bajor."


	6. Episode 2: Viral Damage

**Episode 2: Viral Damage**

"Captain," Merlek called back from his position at navigation, "There is an anomaly thirty thousand kilometers ahead."

Stubbs raised an eyebrow. "An anomaly, Mr. Merlek?" he asked doubtfully.

"Aye sir," he replied with emphasis.

"Impossible," Stubbs remarked, "There are none in this region of space."

"It's on long range sensors," Merlek turned and stated.

"Magnify," Stubbs ordered. No anomaly could just randomly appear with any notice like this. It shouldn't anyways.

On the view screen appeared a large cloud of green vapors. Intermingled were red and yellow light, such as had never been seen. It was beautiful. Like a Venus fly trap to a flying insect.

"How large is it?"

"700,000 kilometers," Merlek said in surprise, squinting at the console, "Captain, it is too large to go around in a timely fashion. If you still wish to reach Bajor within the week."

"If I may," Adam said, standing behind Trust, leaning slightly over his panel, "This would be the perfect opportunity to test our shields and hull integrity."

Stubbs slowly rose and walked forward. It seemed so enticing to him; like his wife Veronica after a long day.

But why? Why was he so drawn towards it?

"How's the radiation levels in there?" he asked, turning towards Merlek.

"50 PSI," Merlek reported, "Well within safety limits."

"Set a course then," he nodded, "Straight through at full impulse. I don't want to overdo it in there."

"Plot laid in sir," Lendon replied, pushing a few buttons.

* * *

"It wasn't quite like that," Stubbs said, shocked at such a statement.

"Come now Captain," Trust jested, "You meet your wife at Hanari IV. That's a planet where all the women work Dabo tables. You must have gotten some action before the wedding."

"I took my wife there before hand," Stubbs cursed, "That's not where I met her. And, besides that, I was a perfect gentleman."

"There are a lot of things to describe the Captain as," Adam interjected behind them; causing them both to turn, "But, for as long as I've known him; he's always been a gentlemen around women. And no, he did not meet her there. They met in San Francisco while we attended the Academy."

Stubbs smiled, "See? Even the tactical officer agrees with me on that."

"Captain," Lendon called back.

"What is it Mr. Lendon?" he asked, turning back towards the navigation consoles.

"A planet," he reported.

"What?"

"A large mass of dirt and other-"

"I know what it is!" Stubbs snapped, "But, what do you mean by there is a planet?"

"Sensors just picked it up in middle of this nebula," Lendon reported, to which Merlek corrected, "The exact middle. It is M Class."

"Interesting," Stubbs murmured. An M Class planet in middle of a nebula. Not a common phenomenon.

"We could investigate it," Trust mentioned.

"Not _we_," Stubbs replied, "You're staying aboard. Merlek, Tryke, you're with me."

They at once began to head for the turbo lift. Once again Stubbs saw the glimmer of immense dislike in Tryke's eyes. But, that couldn't be avoided.

"You have the bridge, Number One," Stubbs replied as the turbo lift's doors closed.


	7. Act 2B

**Act 2**

"I don't know if anyone has ever transported to a planet in middle of a nebula," Merlek commented as they entered the transporter room.

"Then again," Stubbs pointed out as they got onto the transporter pad, "No one has had a ship quiet like ours either."

"Ah," James Gardner said as they took places, "I wish I could go. I remember reading of such planets and things from Jonathon Archers' reports on the Delphic Expanse when I was a child."

"It's nothing that severe," Stubbs shrugged, "I can assure you. We're just going in, take a few scans, then we'll be back out before anything happens. Energize."

They started to vanish and dematerialize as they were transported from the ship down to the planet.

Once the transportation was complete; the three men turned and looked around, pulling out their tricorders. The planet, un-scannible from the ship, was a jungle planet. There were palm-trees everywhere, thick leaf like bushes on the ground. Muddy streams ran around them, crisscrossed by strange red vines. The air was moist, rain droplets slowly falling to the ground.

* * *

"Search the perimeter," Stubbs ordered, "We'll meet back here in ten minutes."

"Lt. Brackles," Sam Mollen called out from the pool-table shaped console board in middle of engineering, "There's been a six percent drop in the plasma activity in the warp core."

"I see it sir," the humanoid Xindi replied, "I don't understand sir. The plasma relays are in perfect order, and the casing for the core is new."

"Get on it," Sam ordered, "I'm not going to let this ship be anything but top notch for when we get to DS9."

"Aye."

Adam stooped over a flower, red, yellow, and white. It was so beautiful. He scanned it with a tricorder and as he did so, his mind flashed back.

"_Mr. Lukas!" he cried, running onto the bridge, "There are Borg in this nebula!"_

_Lukas turned to him, "Are you sure? Scanners have picked up nothing."_

"_Helm! Get out of here!" he shouted, "Turn to 5.6-7-1 now! Red Alert! Weapons full powered! Shields up!"_

"_Sir," Clark Gammes, the tactical officer shouted behind him, "Six Borg spheres coming our way!"_

He shook himself mentally. That was years ago. He had a chance to prove himself again. Something he needed to do. He could not live with the shame of what had happened. That had forced Merlek and Sarah King to turn on him.

* * *

Trust looked at the logs of the first assignment he had, aboard the Galaxy-Class Cruiser, _Warhammer _as a science officer. Not the most Federationy of ships brought forth, but, it had been made to fight the Jem'Hadar. A lot of good men had died on that ship. Out of 300, only 92 remained at the end of the war.

As he read, there was a faint buzzing noise around his head. He turned, looking, then saw a massive bee on his shoulder.

"Are you seri-OOOUCH!" he screamed as the stinger drove itself into his arm.


	8. Act 2C

**Act 3**

Gardner sat in the small chair behind the transporter controls. His head rested against the wall, thinking of days long past, deeds done. His mind drifted beyond the confines of any starship, and his mind lingered on his pregnant wife. Three weeks left. That's how long that it would be before the big day.

Only if his parents, Clark and Debbi Gardner had lived to see this day. They had feared he would never marry. He had married when he was 34, a late age for people from the colony at Vaga Prime.

He was brought out of his daydream by the sounds of water drops fallings to the floor. He sat up, straining to hear it. It was picking up in intensity, and he looked towards the transporter, and saw it transforming itself to what looked like a waterfall.

"Holy chrap!" he shouted, jumping up and tapping his comm, "Gardner to Mollen. We have a situation down here."

* * *

Sam leapt forward, shouting orders and commands. The plasma was turning into jelly, oozing its way out of the containment field.

"Get the chamber purging systems running!" he yelled, watching the jelly ignite as soon as it would reach the floor.

"I can't sir," an Andorian female exclaimed, "The values won't turn."

"Isn't someone up on the fourth level with the valves themselves?" he asked, turning to look up.

"Crewmen Krieeg and Nadden," the Andorian replied, her tentacles turning inwards towards her head, "But they aren't responding to hails."

Sam ran for the ladder and climbed as fast as he could up to the highest of the four levels. The ladder was skinnier then most ladders, making it hard, but, the lifts were growing superheated. Not melting, but were approaching 500 degrees Fahrenheit.

He reached the top and saw Nadden huddled up in a ball; her legs melded together, her hands webbed together, and her mouth sewn shut. Literally. Krieeg was frozen in place, huge ice cubes formed around his legs and going clear up to his waist. His hands had icicles impaled through them, but the force and speed of them coming had clamped his veins shut.

He reached the valves and began to turn them. They were so cold his skin tried to stick to the metal. But, he refused to let go, and with great efforts turn it and he could hear the purging gases rushing forth. He pulled his hands back to discover blood flowing on his hands.

"You alright Kriegg?" he asked, pressing his hands together to stop the bleeding.

"I'm fine sir," the small dog-faced man said, "But, if you wouldn't mind? I need to pee."

"I won't tell," he winked, but grabbed his phaser from his side and began to melt away the ice with the beam.

* * *

"AAAAAHHHHHH!"

"Captain!" Adam shouted, but the screaming continued. He tapped his comm-badge, "Merlek, what's going on?"

"Don't know sir," Merlek's calm but concerned voice replied, "The captain is not responding to the hails."

"Blast you!" Adam shouted, "Why aren't you running towards the Captain?"

"Why aren't you here?" Merlek asked, "It's been half an hour since we landed."

Adam began to run in the direction of the screams, and he passed by Merlek, who looked tired and worn out. Sweat was beading his forehead.

"Why haven't you gone to the Captain?" he demanded, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him along, "And what is that you talking about it's been thirty minutes since we landed?"

"I have not told you anything," Merlek looked confused, "I wasn't able to speak."

"I just commed you," Adam snarled in frustration.

"I was vomiting," Merlek replied, and Adam did see the sickly color in his face, "I could not have answered."

They rounded a boulder and Stubbs was lying on the ground, black boils rising then popping on his face. Each time they popped, a lot of blood came flying out.

"What happened?" Adam said, dropping to his side.

"I was walking-" Stubbs ground his teeth in pain as another boil began to rise on his chin, "And I touched a vine. The tricorder said it was safe. But, then it struck my face with its thorns. AHHHH!"

His words died as it popped, throwing blood onto his uniform. "Tryke to _Invincible_. We need an immediate beamup. Medical emergency."

"Can't do it," came Gardner's reply.

"Why not?" Adam demanded, nearly screaming into his comm.

"The transporter pad has transformed into a rainfall!" the reply came frantic. "It's pouring water into the room. If I don't get out immediately, I'll drown! The other two transporter rooms have been overrun by red vines."

"Get me Trust," Adam demanded, "And get out of there!"

"Trust here!" came the man's voice, sounding exhausted.

"Captain Stubbs is growing boils and losing a lot of blood," Adam reported, "We need to get him to the Invincible now!"

"Sorry," Trust gasped, "We have problems all over the ship. We have a swarm of killer bees on the Bridge. Mr. Lendon has been stung unconscious. We're abandoning it and getting to Engineering. It's one of the only places not affected by what's going on. You're on your own."


	9. Act 2D

**Act 4**

"Great," he growled, "I'm an officer; not a doctor."

"You do have the knowledge of over a thousand forms of medical treatment from a thousand worlds," Merlek said, going from green to pale. He swooned a bit before Adam grabbed him.

"Easy now," he said, helping him to a rock to sit, "You make me sound like a supercomputer."

"In a sense you are," Merlek pointed out.

"Don't talk," Adam said, "Just breath in and out. That should help you."

He turned back to Joshua and lay kneeled by him. He felt his pulse, it was slowly slowing down. The skin was turning waxy, his eyes beginning to glaze over. Luckily the boils had stopped forming, but, that wasn't good enough. His veins beginning to show through his skin, reddish-black. That was not good. He didn't have anything around him to help him.

"How long do I have?" Joshua asked.

"An hour at most," Adam replied, grabbing his tight be the fist, "I can't do much at all for you."

"In that case," he muttered, "Promise me something."

"What?" Adam asked.

"Make peace with yourself," he said with such sincerity that he almost seemed to regained enough strength to sit up.

"What do you mean?" Adam demanded, his left fist clenching in frustration.

"Ever since I first meet you 15 years ago at the Academy," he explained, "You have had a dark cloud of anger and frustration follow you. I have always been your friend, our rivalry at the Academy came from the fact you refused to allow any close to you. You put up a blasted barrier anywhere you go. Only through aggression do you allow people to come near, for you have no choice. I am your friend."

"Liar," he hissed, "You were jealous of me. How dare you think that I am your friend?"

"You refused to talk to any other cadet at the Academy more than two seconds at a time," Stubbs pointed out, "You made sure to stick close to me."

"Why then Borg," Merlek asked, "would you have nearly snapped my head off because I didn't rush over to the Captain the first scream he made? Why the concern for his health? You could leave him to die."

"Stay out of this!" Adam snarled, swinging around his head and pointing an accusing finger, "You pointy-eared hobgoblin. You always were conspiring my downfall from the beginning of my command."

"At ease Commander!" Joshua snapped, and Adam slowly turned around, breathing deeply.

The effort had drained him a lot. "That is what I mean," he said with an effort, "You drive all away; even those you profess to love."

"Commander," Merlek said, then after a pause added, "Borg. We need you. And you need us. It is only logical."

* * *

"Report Mr. Mollan."

"Engines are still operational," Sam replied, sweat pouring down his face, "But, as you know, 53 are sick, 7 are unconscious. Only 100 are still active. Decks six, seven and eight are flooded. The temperature in here is surpassing 60 degrees Celsius."

"Is it the same throughout the ship?" Trust asked his suit becoming slick through the steam produced by the room.

"Some decks are in the negatives," Sam shook his head.

"How is the bridge?" Trust asked.

"Hot with killer bees," Sam replied.

Trust shook his head and turned around. Sitting behind his was Jemma Grax. She seemed to be melting even as she sat. She was slowly rocking back and forth, trying to remain conscious.

"Are you alright Councilor?" Sam asked, and she nodded her head.

Then a thought came to Trust, one he should have thought of before. "Doesn't your family have a bee farm Jemma?" he asked.

"Why yes," she said, looking up, her eyes unfocused, "My-my father was….was…fascina…nated…by….uh….Earth's bees."

"Is there any way to disable them without killing them?" he asked, grabbing her shoulders.

"Huh?" she asked, nearly to the point of having a stroke.

"Anyways to stop them?" he asked, and when she didn't answer immediately, he shook her fiercely, "Keep it together. The bees!"

"C…..ooo….l…duh," she collapsed, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

"Doctor," he called out, and King ran to his side and began to administer to the Councilor.

"Is environmental control still operational?" he turned to Sam.

"You betc'ha!" he hollered, running to a console and beginning to work as fast as only a chief engineer could.

* * *

Wearing evac suits, they soon were back on the bridge. The floor, seats and panels were covered with the frozen bodies of millions of bees. They had multiplied so quickly, that they had covered the entire room by now.

"All this had to originate from somewhere," Trust pounded his fist onto the armrests of the captain's chair, "Find out where Mrs. Longress is!"

It wasn't too long before she exclaimed, "Found it, sir! There's an energy source coming from the poles of the planet. They seem to be generating everything."

"Trust to engineering," he said, "Do we have regular phasers?"

"One bank sir," was the reply, "All the ion phasers are off line."

"That's all we need," Trust fist pumped the air, "Lock phasers and fire!"

* * *

The captains' breath was becoming shallow, and Merlek and Adam sat by his side, checking his pulse and keeping a close eye on him. He had an estimated seven minutes left. There was no possible means of rescue, with the ship in the state it was in.

"How ironic," Adam smirked, "That we would die on a planet together. A man so uptight that it hurts; a man who falsified records and got away with it; and a man who was once a captain, imprisoned for obeying orders."

"We have a week we can go without food or water," Merlek shrugged his shoulders, "Who knows? We might live yet. All is not lost."

Adam chuckled humorlessly. "You and your blaster logic," he snarled, "That was why you did it. It was logical."

"Indeed it was," Merlek agreed.


	10. Act 2E

**Act 5**

"Direct hits on the energy generators," Lendon cheered in exhilaration.

"Mr. Lendon," Trust gave him a stern look, "You will refrain yourself and act as an officer."

Jonathon looked back, giving a sheepish smile. "Sorry sir," he apologized, "Just, that was the first time I had ever fired an actual phaser before."

"And if you keep this up," Trust remarked, "It will also be your last."

"Yes sir," he muttered, turning away and giving a side-glance to the female human science-officer who had taken over in Merlek's absence, muttered, "As you wish."

"The clouds are dissipating slightly," the Vulcan at tactical reported, "And the insectoids are also dissipating."

"And good riddance," Trust snorted.

* * *

"Five minutes left," Merlek remarked, not even having to look to know how much time Stubbs had left.

"Do you always know what is the time?" Adam asked.

"We Vulcans can tell the time by our heartbeats," Merlek replied, "Humans would learn well by following our example."

"Where would this Galaxy come to I wonder?" Adam snorted, "If we all became logical traitors. Much like yourself."

"I will choose not to respond to that comment," Merlek sighed.

Then, in front of them walked two white-skinned beings. They were tall creatures, hair-less, and nose-less. As they walked, they seemed to be phasing out, as if they were only partly in the Prime Galaxy. As if their being there was purely self will.

"We are the ones called by the Xindi 'The Guardians," the taller, a female, spoke, "We are known by your race the 'Sphere Builders'."

"I am not familiar with your race," Merlek said, they both rising.

"During the 22nd Century," Adam replied, "They tried to invade the Delphic Expanse. Only the combined might of the Xindi, along with Captain Jonathon Archer stopped them."

"Your history serves you well," the female nodded, "We were hoping that we could establish a toehold in your dimension again. But, you are already at work destroying our energy sources."

"Are you responsible for the changes to our ship?" Adam demanded.

"The mists did so," the smaller one shrugged, "We only brought this planet forth."

"You're planet will be destroyed," Adam jabbed a finger at them, "You stand no chance."

"Believe us," the woman said, "You have more need to beware those who break treaties then from us."

They vanished, like a dream upon waking. But, at the same time, the planet began to shake violently. They fought just to stand, grabbing for trees or branches."

"The planet is retracting upon itself Borg," Merlek said, holding open a scanner and clutching it for dear life.

"Oh no," Adam said, and the ground around them began to curve downwards, and the planet began to open, to the molten core. They could not hold out much longer, for even as they grasped their trees, they began to be pulled downwards, towards a hot oblivion. They couldn't even tap their comlinks.

Down, down they fell, until they hit…hard metal plating.

* * *

Adam, Merlek and Trust sat on the bridge, the Captain down in sickbay. They had given their reports to Trust, who had fallen silent. Maybe an hour passed before they were able to start talking about the implications of this meeting.

"Makes you wonder," Trust said, "what would happen if the legendary enemies of the past returned with full-force. Like the Doomsday Machine Kirk destroyed. How better would we fare?"

"We know now though how to fight them," Adam shrugged his shoulder, "We would stand a better chance than they did."

"May I remind you; it is like the Guardian said," Merlek said, turning towards them from his helm, "It is the present that is dangerous. Not the past."


	11. Episode 3: Elimination

Note: I have decided to try doing one episode as one chapter. Yes. they'll be a bit longer chapters, but, it'll be easier to do this way.

**Episode III: Elimination**

**Act 1**

"_The boards have been set," the fattest of the three figures grimly smiled, "The game is about to begin."_

"_War," the tallest and skinniest of the three licked his lips, "The loveliest of all the games."_

"_Let us play Elimination," the stoutest and strongest of the three said, sitting between the others._

"_Elimination," the other two cackled, "Lovely."_

"_We must be quick," the fattest groaned, "The One dislikes us interfering with the affairs of the Children."_

"_Have you the dice Kinnera?" the stout one asked, and the skinny one nodded._

"_I do," Kinnera said, bringing out three dice._

_Joshua Stubbs looked at the three, the room dark except for the middle of the room, which sprang forth a sickle white light. They almost looked like zombies, even though they were different in shape, and body mass. _

_He must have made a sound, for the fattest said, "Come, Child Joshua. Reveal in our fun."_

_He walked forward and knelt on the floor. At this closeness, he could see that the dice had only symbols. The heart and the skull. It didn't make any sense to him._

"_Take the dice," Kinnera said, "Jombera will be most displeased if you do not roll."_

"_I will indeed," the fattest one nodded, "But no worse then what you did to the Orian Slave Girl Chera."_

"_Silence," the stoutest snapped, "We shall not talk about her again."_

_The other two chuckled. Joshua could not understand these beings. Why did they call him Child? What was this game? What were the rules?_

"_Just role Child," Kinnera smiled, "Role when the picture appears."_

_On the floor, in middle of the light, a shape slowly grew and contorted into a shape. Before long it was in the likeness of Deep Space 7. The very first place he had served at._

_He rolled the dice, and the dice seemed to sound like the shattering of glass. Three skulls were raised up like the leer of beasts out of the darkest crevasses of human fears. The station tore apart and exploded in a fiery glory. _

* * *

He awoke with a start from the bed and shook his head, feeling a cold sweat beading his forehead. He was in sickbay, and he rubbed his eyes. It had only been a dream.

"You're awake," Sarah King exclaimed, "Thank goodness."

"I had the strangest dream," he muttered.

"What about?" she asked, running a scanner up and down his side.

"I had a dream that I was playing a game with some beings," he said, chuckling at the absurdity of it, "There was dice, and the image of Deep Space 7. It blew up when the dice fell. Silly though, I know."

"I have dreams about that every night since it happened," she nodded.

"Since what happened?" Joshua asked, frowning slightly in confusion.

"Since Deep Space 7 was destroyed by the Romulans," she looked slightly concerned, "I guess you were shocked by the news of your father's death more then I can imagine."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, "What is the star date?"

"63558.81," she replied.

"I don't remember a single thing that happened for a month?" he whispered to himself, "But, it's only star date 63470.51."

"That was a month ago," she replied, a worried look on her face, "I think I need to do some checks on you."

"Get me Nathanial," he ordered, "I want my first officer."

"He died," she replied, "Killed when Romulans boarded the ship and he sacrificed himself to flood Engineering with radiation poisoning."

"Get me Adam Tryke then," he ordered.

"He's been captured for three weeks now by the Dominion," she corrected him.

"Get me my first officer!" he shouted, "Whoever it is!"

"Getting Sam right away," she nodded, running off to do just that.

Joshua looked at the ground, shaken to his very core. _What is going on around here?  
_Act 2

"I am not crazy Sam," Joshua shook his head vigorously; "I have no memory of the past month. As far as I am concerned, we are still on our way to Bajor. Everyone should still be here."

"Bajor was one of the first planets to fall," Sam said, "when the Dominion invaded. With the combined might of the Romulans and Dominion, they have driven us back quite a ways. We are patrolling Regulus, the edge of Federation control."

"The edge?" he gasped, "But that's only like, 77 light-years from Earth."

"77.5 to be exact," Sam said like a broken record, "Yeah, Merlek made sure we knew that when we arrived."

"How many ships are with us?" he asked, not knowing if he would like the answer he would receive.

"Three ships," Sam sighed, "Out of a fleet of 500 ships."

"500?" Joshua raised an eyebrow, "There was over 2000 last I remembered."

"That was before Operation Repeal," Sam explained, "We tried to drive the enemy out of Federation space, but, they surrounded us near Bajor and wiped out a third of the Fleet. Since then, we can barely hang onto what we have."

"That's no good," he muttered.

It was strange. Not remembering anything that had happened. It was like being thrust into a play during the middle act.

"Perhaps you should take a nap," Sam said, "You did take a pretty big bonk on the head during the last engagement."

Joshua nodded. "I guess I will," he agreed, "If it is alright with Doctor King."

She shrugged, "I guess that will be fine."

With that he stood up and walked out of the room. The corridors were only lit by emergency power. That was just one example of the beatings the ship had taken in the past month. But, why was it he had absolutely no memory of what had happened? He hadn't been in a coma and from the sounds of it he had been in the thick of things.

Fortunately for him, he rarely took anything on blind faith. Seeing the doors to his quarters now, he entered. He walked up to the console near his bed and pushed a button.

"Computer, show all personal logs of the last month for Captain Joshua P. Stubbs," he said, sitting down at the chair in front of it.

"Voice authorization required," the computer said.

Joshua rolled his eyes. He had almost forgotten. "Authorization Alpha-9-7 dash 5-4-Latin."

"No personal logs found," came the reply.

Joshua frowned slightly. "Why?"

"No logs were recorded," the computer explained.

"Odd," Joshua muttered, "Show all official logs of Captain Joshua P. Stubbs during same time frame."

"No official records found."

"Why not?" Joshua asked in surprise.

"No logs were recorded."

Joshua rubbed his eyebrow. This was not making any sense. How was it that he had made no personal or official logs?

"Show all logs made by ship personal including Captain Joshua P. Stubbs," he ordered, "Authorization Alpha-9-7 dash 5-4-Latin."

Perhaps by expanding his search he would get some clues. At least that was the general idea. With over a hundred and sixty crew, it should be easy to find some stuff.

"No logs found."

Joshua raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

"No logs of any nature have been recorded in the past month."

"That's impossible!" he barked in disbelief, "How is it possible that 163 people just happened not to record any logs?"

"Unknown."

This was too messed up to be real. And yet, it was.

**Act 3**

"_The Child returns."_

_Joshua looked around for the snickering voices of the three sitting around the lit floor. He turned to them, not knowing quiet what to think or say. Why was he back here? This couldn't be possible this was real._

"_Come," Jombera chortled, "Roll again, and see where fortunes lie this time."_

"_Is what I experienced real?" he asked, slowly approaching them but not taking the dice that were held out by a bone hand. _

"_It was," Jombera smirked._

"_Right then," Kinnera giggled like a little girl._

"_So," Joshua said to himself, "DS7 is destroyed, Trust is dead and Adam has been captured. Why weren't there any logs?"_

"_Only one question per roll," the stout one halted him with a raised finger, "You must roll the dice."_

_The hand that held the dice still remained, perfectly motionless. Held up to him, as an old man holding out food to his pet cat. He must seem like that to these beings, beings that seemed to be able to infiltrate his mind._

_Jombera cleared his throat, bringing him back to rolling the dice. If this was a game, this was one messed up game. He grabbed the dice and as his fingers closed around them and brought them close to his lips, the glass and light distorted until the face of his beloved Veronica came staring out of it, like a picture from a photo album._

_He rolled the dice, with slow deliberate rolls of his wrist. He slowly opened his fingers, standing straight up and watched them fall. Time seemed to slow down as they fell, and he wondered if it was these creatures attempting this thing, or if it was his imagination._

_First die. Second die. Third die. Falling to the ground with the sound of bells. With the smoothness of a feather onto the ground. They bounced slightly as they made contact with the floor._

_The dice rolled around the ground, until coming to rest, one by one. Heart, Skull, Heart. _At least it isn't triple skulls_, Joshua thought to himself._

"_You might think so," Kinnera laughed harshly, "but, you forget how fickle chance and luck are."_

"_What do you mean?" he demanded, growing extremely weary of their blasted evasiveness._

_Jombera held up a finger. "Tisk, tisk," he chided, "Remember, the Gods only answer one question at a time. Keep on asking and you will be penalized with a skull._

* * *

"Admiral," a woman's voice said in his ear, "Admiral sir. Time to wake up."

He slowly opened his eyes, grogginess making it hard to wake up. He shoved his knuckles in his eyes and rubbed hard, trying to force the weariness to leave. He needed to wake up. He had to.

"Ensign," he said, when he finally was awake enough to look at the woman, "Where are we?"

"Coming up on Portland," she said, turning towards her controls, "ETA 1 minute 30 seconds."

"Portland?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing almost to the point of making a unibrow, "Oregon?"

"Of course," she said, throwing a small smile at him, "_Admiral_."

"Admiral?" he nearly shouted, "Did you say Admiral?"

"I did," she said, looking slightly confused.

"What's the star date?" he demanded in almost frenzy.

"63868.11," she said, glancing at her chronometer.

"Half a year," he muttered to himself, "Half a year has gone by."

"Sir?" she asked, not turning towards him.

"Nothing, Ensign-?" he asked, hoping she would provide her name.

"Sulu, Sir," she said, and he suddenly could see the resemblance to the old teacher, David Sulu, who served as a Helm's Officer on the Enterprise-D.

Then she asked, "If I may, are you alright sir?"

"I'm a little out of sorts," he said, letting himself acknowledge that fact.

"You have been asleep for about 12 hours," she nodded.

Well, to anybody that would explain allot. Twelve hours was a long time to sleep. More then was good in fact. They were now over Portland's shuttle bay, and began their descent. As they were setting down, he realized he needed to know what was going on.

"Pop quiz Ensign," he said, and she lit up like a kid at Christmas. A brainy one this girl was.

"When was I promoted to Admiral?" he asked.

"Two months ago at the Battle of Vulcan," she answered smartly, "For saving Ambassador Spock's diplomat shuttle from the Jem'Hadar."

"What is my flagship?" he asked.

"The Enterprise-F," she replied.

"What happened to the _Invincible_?"

"Destroyed at Betazoid by the Borg who used the Betazoid wormhole to invade the Alpha Quadrant."

"What is the current military situation?"

By now they had landed and were being cleared to leave.

"We are losing," she sighed, "Holding Andoria and Earth as our major planets. Over half of the Federation has either been assimilated by the Borg or captured by the Dominion."

"Are the Romulans still involved?"

"They have withdrawn as one of their stars is about to supernova."

So much death and destruction. How could one possibly survive such madness?

"Any other questions?" she asked, waiting like a little girl at her birthday party.

"Why are we here?" he asked, finally coming to the question he had been most anxious to have answered.

"Your wife has died from effects of assimilation and you have come to take care of your daughter Lola until the _Enterprise_ returns from Andoria."

**Act 4**

Joshua walked down the street towards his home. The Ensign trailed him like a love-struck puppy, sticking as close to him as he could. If he took a step to the right, she would take a step to the right. If he took a step to the left, she would. If he bent over to pick up a rock and toss it aside, she would try to follow suit.

It was almost three miles from the shuttle bay to his house, and he could have gotten a lift there, but, he preferred to walk. It helped him stay in his time frame. Or, to keep himself sane despite the insanity of the situation.

His wife, his precious Veronica, was dead. How could it have happened? She had never been taken by the Borg to his knowledge. And what had she been doing in the Betazoid system? She hated space travel.

"Remind me again," he said, after the Ensign followed his almost-trip "Why did I bring you along?"

"What?" she asked, "Why shouldn't I? You are my God father."

He stopped suddenly as if he had run into a brick wall. "I don't have a godchild," he corrected her, "No one has ever trusted their child to me like that."

"Dad told me that if he was to die," she said, a little confused, "I was to live with you. You were his closest friend."

"I didn't know your father beyond his being my navigation instructor at the Academy," he shook his head in denial.

"You don't remember Thanksgiving in New Orleans?" she asked, "Or the tennis match at Risa? Or the Orian Slave Girls you rescued from the Gorn slavers? You were the best of friends!"

"Young lady," he thrust a thumb at her, "I don't know where you think you are my goddaughter. All I see is a delusional woman who thinks I am something that I am not. Your father was a good man, but, I was not his friend. He was my teacher and we respected the boundary set between teacher and student. Now, leave!"

She stood there, stunned. "That's an order!" he shouted, and then throwing his bags over his shoulder stomped off towards his house.

When he came to the intersection that would lead to his house, he looked back and saw the Ensign still there, following him. He closed his eyes and gripped the metallic handles even tighter then he had already. If they hadn't been made out of titanium, he would have bent them, he was sure of it.

If he just ignored her, she would go away. He waited as an antique Corvette, vintage 2010, drove past him, the occupant waving his hand absently towards him. Once the vehicle had passed, he strode across the street, feeling the small puddles on the road under his shoes as he walked.

He came to the neighborhood where the houses were, and he veered off onto a side street. strode towards the yellow colored one at the end of the left side of the side street in a small cul-de-sac. His wife had loved the color yellow, despite the fact it gave him a headache to see it. Oh well. He would honor her memory and not change the colors.

The Ensign had stopped following him, which he was grateful for. He walked up to the door, and grasped the doorknob with his strong hand. It had been three years since he had last been home. With a sigh of both loss and happiness welling inside of him, he opened the door and walked in.

There, in the hallway, as he closed the door, he could hear the deep monotone voice of his father and the sweet tender voice of his daughter. He could hear the words, "Cookie" and "Frosting." It must be Wednesday, when his father, Bradley Stubbs would come over and make cookies with his five year old granddaughter.

His mother Susan would have done so, but, she had been killed at Wolf 359 while serving as Security Chief onboard the USS _Melbourne_. She hadn't lived to see her son get married to the most beautiful woman. Never to see her grandchild. How sad it was.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, taking in the smells of hard wood, bear skin carpets, and the wafting smell of chocolate and flour dough. He opened his eyes and the oven door opened, and his mind flashed back to his wife's chicken, cooked in an oven. She had despised replicators, saying food from them were no better then sun baked bricks.

He was not about to let this opportunity to say hello to his gorgeous daughter go by. He opened his eyes and strode into the kitchen, where both daughter and grandfather were turned towards a small data pad while the cookies cooked, pointing out stars and talking about the different races that lived on them. How hard it was for him, knowing she had very rarely had seen her father in the flesh, beyond calls.

His father turned to him, and his mouth dropped in silent shock. He held up his finger to his lips and snuck up behind the bright eyed, brown haired girl. The girl noticed something was amiss when her grandfather did not continue talking, and turned in her chair, and saw her father standing six feet behind her.

"Papa!" she squealed, leaping down and rushing up to him.

Her small arms clung him as tightly as she could and he kneeled down, and took her in his arms. The tears, unacceptable, began to well up in his eyes.

"I'm home darling," he said in her ear.

"Gave us no word you were coming," Brad said, standing up and clasping his son's shoulder, "If you had given us advance warning, we would have prepared more cookies for you."

"You should have known," he said, looking up at him, rubbing Lola's back, "I would come back to take care of my daughter after what happened to her mother."

"Her mother?" the elderly man said, "We never sent a message to Star Command about it."

"Then how come I am here?" he asked, "How do I know it then?"

**Act 5**

As he asked the question, everything around him changed. The house, his daughter, father and the whole world dissolved in a swirl of color and lights that threatened to engulf him in a sea of trouble and woe.

Then, as soon as it began it ended. Where he had been standing just a minute before was replaced with stars. He was in middle of outer space, although he could not die. He could breath easily as if he was still on a starship. He could see stars, planets and nebulas. Comets zoomed in their course and rogue asteroids lazily followed their trajectories.

He slowly turned in a circle, taking in the immense of it. He wondered if this was the view God had. Indeed, if there was a God. Which, just by looking around him made it very plausible that it could have been created by a divine hand.

He made one last turn and saw a tall man, white skinned, short grey hair. He wore robes of blue and gold and in his hand he held a staff of ivory. His boots were a silvery material, that sparkled like the stars around him.

"Are you an angel?" he asked, realizing how foolish he must have sounded as he asked the question.

The man tilted his head slightly and said, "No. I am no angel."

"Are you-" he said slowly, "God?"

The man threw back his head and laughed softly. "No," he said, walking closer to him, "My name is Jarus Nooan. I am an El-Aurian. Much like Doctor Soran or Guinan. Only 50 of us escaped the Borg devastation that destroyed our home planet. 42 by Captain James T. Krik, and 8 simply by being in the other quadrants."

"Neither name is known to me," Joshua admitted, "but, where am I? You do not belong here. This is supposed to be my home."

"This is _my_ home," the man raised a finger and shook it, "It is _you_ who do not belong."

"Are we still in our galaxy?" he asked, the stars unfamiliar to him.

"We are," Jarus nodded, "But, not in the sense of what you call it."

"Are we in another dimension?" Joshua asked, much like a child working with a jigsaw puzzle with one color and no border pieces.

"Yes and no," came the cryptic answer.

"What the f does that mean?" he growled in frustration.

"Yes because you are in, you could say, another dimension," Jarus explained, now close to Joshua, but slowly walking around him, like a circling cloud of thought, "for things do not need to add up to be so. No, because everything is still in place. The places you were once are still places you once were, people you know are still people you know and things are still things."

"What is this mumbo jumbo?" Joshua asked, looking at him much like someone who is watching a man taking leave of his senses, "_things are still things_? Give me a straight answer! I command you!"

"May I remind you," Jarus stared at him, "This is my dimension. You shall not order anyone. But, I will give you this clue: think and tell me, what is still intact?"

Joshua stared at him curiously. Was this another cryptic trap? Was this man fooling with him? But, as he looked at him, he realized that this man _had_ no ill intention towards him.

"My history for the most part," he replied, giving it little thought, "Up until I went to sickbay after the Rogue Planet. Everything is where it should be, and the people I know do recognize me."

Jarus nodded his head, "Now, what is wrong?"

"Ensign Sulu for one," he rolled his eyes, "Where the freak did she come from? And there is never any records that have been made during both of my times of lapse."

"I am Ensign Sulu," Jarus replied, "I sensed your situation and followed you to see just how much damage had been caused."

"Damage?" he asked, for some reason not even bothered by the fact that Jarus seemed to posses the ability to assume forms other then his own, "What damage?"

"Captain, you have not missed 7 months of your life," Jarus explained, "Only two days have passed in your time."

"Two days?!" he exclaimed in shock, "But the events, they are so realistic."

"This is one of multiple possibilities of the future," Jarus explained, looking him in the eyes now, no longer circling him, "Every future is determined by the actions of the today. Of the Now. You have been sent in two leaps, to two events that could be."

Joshua frowned. "Does that mean none of this is set in stone? None of this will happen in reality?"

"Some of these things are unavoidable," Jarus shook his head, "But, all could happen if you rush to stop it. The danger of the future is sometimes the very things we work to stop, happens as a direct result of our doing."

"That would explain the records and all that," Joshua realized, "Only big things are worth the change in the future. No need to add the small stuff."

Jarus smiled approvingly.

"And this is a result of the game?" Joshua asked, "Those creatures are damaging the future!"

"They aren't the ones rolling the dice. And only you can rectify the game once it's over."

* * *

"_Haha!"_

_Joshua spun around, and there in front of him was the three, sitting, squatting on their lazy haunches. They held all three of their hands out. In each was one of the dice. One, for each. Three die for three Gods._

"_Take the dice and roll again."_

To Be Continued…


	12. Episode 4: Elimination, Part 2

Note: Check the updated last chapter to get the full last episode, since I've started posting the episodes as single chapters. I am in Season 2, so I've got a ton of episodes written by now.

**Episode**** 4: Elimination Part 2**

**Act 1**

_Joshua gapped at the three in indignation. "I won't participate in this any longer!" he shouted, clenching his fists, "Return me to the my own timeline. I will not play this game any longer."_

"_The Child is so cute," Jombera chuckled._

"_He has learned how deadly games can be," Kinnera smirked._

"_I have learned," he growled, "and I will be part of it no longer!"_

_The third God smiled slyly, "But, there is only one more round to go! Will you be so rash and hasty as to deny yourself the opportunity to win or lose the game?"_

"_If I can save myself," Joshua glared, "Yes."_

_With that, he turned on his heel and walked away. To blazes with their fun! He had responsibilities. He knew that to stop playing the game would end it. He just needed to keep walking like a school boy from a bully._

"_Foolish you would be," one of them called to him, "If continued on your course."_

"_Why?" he asked._

"_The last four hundred players did so, and history was radically altered," Jombera called out, and Joshua stopped and turned to them. _

"_What do you mean?" he demanded, "I want answers!"_

"_We started the game during what you would call 320 B.C.," they recounted, and as they spoke, he saw through their minds eye, "With a young man named Alexander."_

"_He would have conquered all of Asia, and lived to have six sons. His Empire would have lasted, untarnished by Civil War, until 400 AD. But, Alexander deemed us evil, and fled after round two. He contracted a fever and died. A man who would have lived until he was 83, died when he was just over 30. An Empire which would ended the Chinese, and prevented the Mongols from rising never came about."_

"_In 44 B.C. we played with a young man named Gaius Julius. He was destined to rule until 12 A.D.," they informed him, "He would have pushed past Germania, captured the entire Britain Isle. The Roman Empire would have ended up stretching clear past India and into North America eventually. The Roman Empire would have survived until 1936, when Germany would have revolted under the leadership of a young Adolf Hitler. But, Gaius Julius walked away after Round 2, and he ended up being assassinated on the Ides of March, the day after he walked away."_

"_Since then, we have done it with Kahless the Forever, Joan of Arc, Napoleon, George Washington, Edwin Rommel, Hitler and Gary Mitchell, just to name a few. We have played with the Borg Queen, with Shinzon and Picard. Few have ever rolled to the end. Only six have passed the test. Simon Bolivar, George Washington, Jonathon Archer, Spock, Jean-Luc Picard and Sarek. _

"_Those that have walked away, have fallen before their time, lost everything. Because they tempt the Gods that deliver them from evil. That offer them the chance to go through long life. Fulfill the ends of their purposes. They all died soon after, or lost all their power and vain things."_

"_If you wish to live, and influence history itself in ways you know not, you must play!"_

"_Tell me one good personal reason I should remain," he demanded._

"_Many of the things that you have experienced will happen if you do not finish the game," Kinnera warned, "If you do not roll, and survive the next round, the Dominion will conquer the Alpha Quadrant. The Borg shall assimilate 75 billion people. 95 habituated worlds shall be swept bare off all life. The Federation you cherish shall be no more, and the Klingons will succumb not to long past then. Every person play a major role in events, even if they are merely a child, they shape the entire course of history, by simply being."_

_So many would die if he did not play. How had he been so blind as not to see that? There was the old maxim, That if a grain of sand is moved, the whole course of time could be changed. How had he failed to realize it?_

_He closed his eyes and sighed. He held out his hand, and he felt them be rolled off into his hand. They seemed so heavy, and he cupped his hand, opened his eyes, and bounced them around a bit. He had to roll. But not only roll, but survive._

_He looked down at the glass, and it transformed into Earth. His roll would have dire consequences on what would happen. He slowly lowered his arm, and one by one uncurled his fingers. Then, with the last finger, they rolled off._

_Slowly they fell, and struck the ground. A skull. A skull. A skull. Three bad things were about to happen. And he could do nothing but survive. _

_I must survive. I must survive. I must survive._

**Act 2**

The ship rocked in concert with a loud explosion. Joshua tumbled out of his bed and fell hard on the floor. His eyes snapped awake, and he jumped up as the klaxons began to blare out, the lights flashing red. He rushed over to a comm panel and touching it, yelled, "Bridge, report!"

"500 Jem'Hadar attack fighters have dropped out of warp speed," a gravelly voice responded, "And more are coming in."

"On my way," he said, shutting off the comm.

* * *

He was soon on the bridge, full clothed. He didn't take time to notice the bridge crew, for even as he walked on, two Federation starships, caught unawares, ruptured from intense enemy fire.

"Status," he ordered and the tactical officer, a Tholian female, reported, "Shields down to 77%, weapons up at maximum. No casualties as of yet."

"What's been the losses for the Fleet?" he asked, turning his attention toward the human helm officer.

"Seventeen of the Fleet has already been destroyed," he reported, "and the remaining 88 are attacking and being driven back."

Joshua looked out the view screen, and to his dismay saw thirteen Jem'Hadar fighters break off their attack on the _USS Yorktown _and began to swing towards them. He stepped up to the helm and navigation and said, "How well are you at flying through an asteroid field?"

They looked up at him and said, "Sir, that's suicide."

"Can you do it?" he demanded.

"I wouldn't recommend it," he shook his head, and Joshua nodded his head, "Set course for Jupiter. Do it!"

"What are you planning?" the first officer, a Vulcan asked.

"If we can get them to follow us," Joshua explained, "we will draw off their attack upon the fleet, reliving some of the pressure. Maybe more will follow us."

"Course laid in sir," the helm's officer sighed.

"Engage," Stubbs ordered and they blazed off, barely being missed by Jem'Hadar polaron beams.

They speed away, following in close pursuit. "Initiate Evasive Pattern Delta 5," the first officer ordered, and they swung back and forth to avoid disruptor fire. Faster they sped towards the ring surrounding Jupiter.

The ship shuddered as it was hit by a disruptor beam. "Shields down to 55%," tactical reported as another shot hit them.

"Steady as she goes," Joshua ordered, and they got closer and closer to the asteroids.

They were now close enough to the asteroid field that the computer started to shout warning of imminent doom. But, the helm found a small opening, and drove right through it. The opening closed behind them, and most of the Jem'Hadar crashed into the asteroids. The few that remained emptied their pay loads into the asteroid field. A few shots hit their target, along with a few asteroids.

"Attack pattern Gamma Six," Joshua ordered, and the ship was pointed upwards and at full impulse was shot up and twisted around onto the remaining four Jem'Hadar assault ships, who at once began suicidal runs.

"Fire!" Joshua shouted, and with that order they launched four proton torpedoes, which smashed into the enemy vessels, destroying them one by one in a fiery blaze of glory.

"Head for the main battle immediately," Joshua ordered, "All guns blazing. Situation report."

"The Fleet is down to seventeen vessels," the somber report came, "and those that remain are too badly damaged to escape."

"Full stop helm," he said.

"But sir-" the man protested, but Stubbs cut him off with a vicious, "Do it!"

"Full stop sir," the man sighed and they watched the ship stopped.

The entire bridge went silent, and Joshua looked out towards earth, and saw the swarms of enemy ships. Vast explosions, like suns going nova could be seen, and they could count the blue flashes of their own ships exploding. Very soon, the last one ruptured and was gone. Joshua had to think to breath, for so hard was it to imagine Earth had just fallen.

By now, 300 Attack ships were heading for them.

"How many enemy ships were destroyed?" he asked.

The answer did not make him happy. "Forty, Admiral," tactical replied, "And 15 of them were our kills."

"Is there any ships we can met up with?" Joshua asked.

"Ten total."

They had lost. Earth had been taken, with so little damage inflicted upon them. He could order a suicidal last stand, rushing in to the kill. But, he would have to save those that were still alive on his ship. His crew was all that remained of the Federation.

"Set a course for Andoria," he sighed.

"But sir," the navigation officer objected.

"We can't just leave without avenging our comrades deaths!"

"That's an order!" Joshua yelled, "Or is it your wish to be court-martialed for insubordination? Now get us out of here Warp 8!"

They set the course, and went away from the scenes of despair and destruction.

**Act 3**

Joshua's head hung down, his mind blank of all images and thoughts. He was zoned out from the life he had at the moment, blocking out those around him on the bridge. The day had been a disaster for the Federation. How could this have happened? It didn't seem plausible.

Perhaps it had something to do with those so called Gods. They were throwing him for loop after loop, giving him no rest, no break. The monsters, yes, they were monsters, had destroyed the Federation. All his friends were dead, his family was no more. All he had were those around him.

And that did not comfort him in the slightest.

"What's our ETA to Andoria?" he asked the helm.

"6 hours, 13 minutes sir," the human replied.

He sighed and rose to his feet. "I'm going to my quarters. Number One, you have the bridge."

He walked up the slight rise in the floor to the turbo lift. The door slid open to allow him in, and he entered, the door sliding shut behind him. He closed his eyes and side, turning to face the door.

"Deck 15," he ordered and the turbo lift began it's descent to Deck 15.

"There have been two strikes already," he said to himself, "The Federation has all but been destroyed, and Earth captured. But, what is the third one? It was suppose to be near Earth, wasn't it?"

He opened his eyes as the turbo lift slowed and came to a stop. The door slid open and he walked out of the door into the corridor, which was strangely deserted. He looked around, before shrugging his shoulders. Most people were probably in their quarters, too shocked to do anything. He knew he was.

He had barely reached his quarters when the klaxons sounded forth again, following a violent shiver throughout the ship rocked as if it had been hit. He tapped his comlink and shouted, "Report!"

"We have accidentally collided with something," the Vulcan reported, "We took no damage."

"What was it?" he demanded, grabbing the wall to steady himself.

"Unknown sir," the Vulcan replied, "it was too small to be detected by our sensors."

"Too small to be sensed by the sensors and still have that much of a wallop?" Joshua asked not believing.

"Yes sir."

"Alright," he muttered, "Keep me informed. Stubbs out."

* * *

He sat in his chair next to his desk. How long would it be here? How long would this happen? Until he fell asleep? If that was what it would take to end this charade, he would do just that.

He stood up, and walked to his bed. He reached the foot of it, when a though occurred, and he ran over to his desk. If he remained true to himself, it would still be there. He ran to the other side, and pushed a small button. The drawer slid out and he found it still in there.

A small phaser. He would kill those gods if he could. With self assurance, he stood back up and went over to his bed. He sat down, kicking off his boots but leaving his uniform on. He would kill them. Only that would stop them.

He had barely laid down when his door burst open, thrown off it's hinges. "What the-" he exclaimed as he sat up, and one of the Gods walked into the room. The god held up his finger and shook both it and it's head at him in disapproval.

"Play nasty and we will," he threw his head back and laughed long and heartily, "You almost have us beaten Child Stubbs. If you reach Andoria, you will automatically win. But, the game is not over yet. One last trick up our sleeves."

He snapped his fingers and the room transformed and Joshua fell hard on the ground, his phaser melting away and being replaced by a short sword. Where was he now?

Joshua looked down at him, and saw his uniform had been replaced with a toga and tunic. He then looked at the ground around him, and where hard floor should have been, there was sand. His eyes drifted up and around, seeing rows upon rows, sloping upwards at an incline. Flags breezed in the distance.

This was one place he had never been or dared dream he would be. In the blood sands of the Coliseum. And in the stands were many people booing him. All of them omnipotent.

And up in the Emperor's box, was a man he had never seen or heard before. Sunlight shined behind him, giving him a glow. Dressed as an immortal Caesar himself.

"The Game never ends Human," the man sneered with a hatred and lust he had not shown in his entire existence, bending down over the edge of the box, "You were able to withstand your future it is true. You all but defeated the Gods of the Games indeed. But I am the 'Master Gamer' the greatest of all the Gods. How well can you do against your own past I wonder, you Mortal pig."

**Act 4**

Out of the many gates and levels came hordes of men. Some on horses, some on foot. Some rode out in chariots or ancient jeeps. And yet others rode in old automobiles and motor bikes. And yet more came out on animals he had only seen in pictures such as the extinct elephant and other exotic animals.

From all times of Earth's past there were soldiers. Amazonians, Roman Legionaries, Gladiators, British Royal Marines. Heavily armored Spartans and Macedonians phalanx warriors marched forth. He identified Arab Warriors wielding curved bladed scimitars, and Crusader knights on proud horses. Longbow men from old England, and crossbowmen of France. American Patriots wielding muskets and pirates much unto the likes of Blackbeard and Captain Kidd. Some were even Nazi soldiers carrying assault rifles. Even the deadly Cossacks were present.

There were even club wielding cavemen. Zulus carrying buffalo-skin shields. American Indians and Mayan Eagle Warriors. From every country and nationality they came from. Carrying armor from all times and weapons that he thought were simply absurd. But, he had no shield, and only a roman dagger in which to defend himself against machine guns and arrows.

"Let the games begin!" the god shouted and the crowds cheered in delight.

He stood up, grabbing the dagger and bent low. He would take them all and most certainly die in the process. For death was the only result to be expected.

It began with the three cavemen rushing him, raising their clubs and stone-headed spears. He ran towards them, and quickly and deadly took them all out. One slice here, a stab there, a broken arm there. He quickly laid them all down, blood flicked onto his tunic and bare arms. He bent down and picked up the spear, and now felt a bit better. He now had at least a fighting chance.

They came at him, always three at a time. Next came the Spartans, and after some difficulty, he cut one's throat, gutted another one and the last he shoved his spear into him. He quickly took up the heavy shield of one of them, and was grateful for his exercise program. He would not be able to hold it up for long anyways until a lighter shield could come up.

Then the Romans came with their expert unity, followed by the Macedonians and their long spears. Then the Zulus like a black rain cloud and the Indians whooping and hollering. Then the Knights on their noble steeds and the Arabs like a wind of sand blown from the nostrils of Allah.

After the 28th kill, Joshua had managed to collect a Crusader shield, a long bladed Roman sword and a Spartan spear. He was running out of strength and he knew he needed something that had actual range. He looked around and saw a World War II Era American gangster with a Tommy gun. It wasn't the most advanced, but, it had the firepower he needed.

He jumped up onto one of the Indian steeds and drawing upon his experience on his Grandfather's ranch in Texas, he took the horse and pointing it straight to the gangsters car where he was sitting back, drove his heels into the horses flanks. The horse spurred forward, and a Confederate soldier jumped forward, ramming a charge down his long rifle barrel. Joshua threw the spear as hard as he could and he caught the man square between the chest and he fell backwards onto the ground.

At the same time, a Cowboy stepped forward and throwing his coat back, got ready to draw his guns. But the horse was too fast and Joshua swung downwards with his sword and the cowboy gurgled as he twirled around and fell on his face.

He was pretty much on top of the car now, and the gangster and his pals brought down their weapons to bear. But, Joshua was much faster, and soon he was on top of the men. He stabbed the first one clean through and used his shield to shove aside one of his partners pistols. He then used his sword to hook over his shield and stab down, pinning the man to the ground. The third and last man he threw aside the shield and drove head first into the man, who in his fall flung his arms back, squeezing the trigger, and seven other warriors running to his aide were mowed down. Joshua slammed his fist down on the mans head and the man went unconscious.

He took the gun out of the mans hands and began firing all around him, taking down anything that moved. As soon as he would run out of ammunition for one gun, he would jump to another gun, and empty it as well. Before long, he ran out of ammunition, but, he had also run out of enemies to kill. The entire length of the Coliseum was blanketed in the bodies of the dead soldiers.

He sighed a breath of relief. His hands were shaking and he could barely move anymore. Sweat poured down his face. It was finally over.

Then came a sound he really did not want to hear. The gates were opened and out rushed another wave of warriors, three times the amount he had just killed. Then, a massive warrior, who he recognized as the mythical hero called Achilles, ran forward and smashed his shield into Joshua's face. Joshua fell to the ground, blood oozing from a broken nose. He struggled to stand, but a leather sandaled foot smashed into his side and he felt a rib crack. He fell onto his side, but refusing to give up, grabbed hold of Achilles girdle, and began to drag himself up, trying with desperation to sink his fingernails deep into his flesh. But, even if he had still had the strength to do it, no one could hurt him except through his heel. Achilles kneed him in the gut and with his sword slashed his shoulder.

Joshua cried out as he fell, but upon landing on the ground, cut his hand on a dagger. Achilles pushed him onto his back with his foot, then placed it on his chest and began to push down, threatening to crush Joshua's chest in.

Stubbs with a last burst of energy clutched the dagger and stabbed into the heel, and twisted. Achilles leapt back, and Joshua forced himself to stand, and even as he stumbled, he kept swinging with his blade, doing nothing more then keeping Achilles away until, drained of blood, Achilles fell backwards. But, even as he fell, the rest advanced slowly, to finish Joshua off.

He couldn't even speak he was to weak, but he fell to his knees his eyes in utter defeat. He was doomed. And he knew it.

But then, almost as if a whisper in the dark, he heard the voice of a man he once knew, now bitter in his hatred of everything, back in the days of the Academy say, "You know what Stubbs? I dislike you. You are an arrogant son of a b-. And I will live long enough to dance on your grave."

"Let's make a wager of that shall we?" he had said all those years ago, "First one who dies, the other person gets to dance on their grave."

And at the thought of that a deranged smile played across his face and he said to the memory of a friend who did not even survive most likely anymore, "Not today Mr. Tryke."

He reached for the Chinese sword in front of him and struggled to stand. Even as he failed, he kept at it. He refused to say die.

"Halt!" the God said, springing to his feet, "Be gone!"

* * *

_With that, everything around Joshua vanished and he suddenly was all alone with the Gods. He was back in the small dark room with them, the weapons gone, and so was the bodies. He then realized the wounds were gone, and although extremely tired, he could stand and talk. They nodded to him and said, "You are a most peculiar creature Child Stubbs. You defeated everything we threw at you."_

"_Why did you stop that last attack?" he demanded, "You could have killed me and been done with it."_

"_You will one day learn why," Kinnera smiled, "As all great men do."_

* * *

"He's finally waking up Doctor," he heard as he opened his eyes and took in the sight of his sickbay on the _Invincible_.

"Oh good," Sarah King said, walking to him from her small office.

He looked up at her and frowned. Was it all a dream?

"How are you feeling Joshua?" she asked him, as he slowly raised himself.

He looked at her and after a moment's consideration said, "I really don't know. I just don't know."

**Act 5**

"Captain," Nathaniel said as he sat across the table, "That's one wild story I must admit."

Joshua grabbed the bishop from the lowest level on the 3-D chess board and moved it up to the top level. He had spent nearly an hour explaining the whole story to Trust, and even as he spoke, it just seemed so unreal. As if it had been all for nothing.

"I know it must sound that way," he said, removing a pawn that he had captured and holding it, looking at it, "But, it is true. You have to believe me."

"I do."

Joshua raised an eyebrow and looked at him. He was taken aback by the surprisingly conviction of what he had just heard.

"Then you do not think I am crazy?" he asked.

"Heck no," Trust shook his head, "I had a similar experience such as that when I was serving on DS9."

Stubbs raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"The Dominion was winning the war," Trust started, his eyes slowly dimming as he was drawn inwards into his own thoughts, "The Dominion had taken DS9, nearly a sixth of the Alpha Quadrant had fallen. I was onboard the _Defiant_ when the plan for Operation Return was put into affect. We had just broken through the enemy lines. Ships blew up all around us. We alone made it past the Cardassian-Dominion lines. But, the enemy had just finished destroying the minefield, and thousands of Jem'Hadar attack fighters were on their way. We had no time to await reinforcements. Our only hope was to go into the wormhole and hope our sacrifice was enough to stop them."

"I read the report afterwards," Joshua nodded, "Terrible business."

"You don't know all of it," Trust glanced at him.

"Yeah I do," Joshua shrugged.

"No," Trust retorted sharply, "You don't. No one except for those who served on board knows what happened while in there. Waves of them. Ship after ship. So many that they looked like black paint being dragged across a floor, creating midnight in their path. We all knew we were going to die."

"We had no way to win," Trust clenched his fist at the memory, "But, at the last moment, we all had, in some small way, a glimpse of the wormhole aliens the Bajorans call the prophets. They called us each by name, taking the forms of those we had known and loved, and told us not to worry. Sisko got a more in-depth conversation, but that was enough for us. The enemy was gone."

"Now," Trust said, squirming uneasily in his seat, "I can't say I believe in God or anything, but, at that moment, I knew something bigger then us is out there to protect us. I can't explain it in words, but, it is there. Just there."

Joshua looked at his first officer in a new light. He had never known Trust to be a poet, and he certainly was no saint. But, at that moment, Nathaniel Trust had spoken as if he truly believed what he had spoken.

"Well," he said, fingering the pawn, "We are all pawns in the great scheme of things. I think I'll retire. It's been a long day."

"Alright," Trust said, "We should be to Bajor in seven hours."

"Sounds good," he nodded, standing and beginning the walk out of Plus Hall, the recreational center and bar on the ship.

* * *

His doors opened as he pushed the door pad, and he stepped in, looking around at the bed. He didn't even get out of his uniform, he just dragged himself to the bed and flopped down upon it belly down, greeting the comfort he felt. He closed his eyes and slid his face towards the nightstand. He opened his eyes for a brief second and hesitated.

He propped himself up and reached out towards the table and grabbed the small item on it. In his hand, he held a ring of golden band and a red stone.


	13. Episode 5: Racism Temple

**Episode 5: Racism Temple**

**Act 1**

_Captain's Log Stardate 63575.27:_

_After nearly three weeks of traveling, we have arrived at Bajor and after the bizarre incidents getting here, the crew is looking forward to some down time._

Adam Tryke laid back on the grass and let the sunlight fall upon him. After what had seemed forever, he was feeling good about spending some time alone on the surface of Bajor. The warmth of the sunlight was so overpowering, that soon he felt his mind drifting towards nothingness. No, not nothingness. He was being drawn back six years.

"_Captain! Shields are down" a voice shouted._

"_Drones are beaming aboard sir!" _

"_Decks 5 - 12 have been taken over!"_

"_We need to abandon ship!"_

"_Tryke! Tryke!_ Tryke!"

He bolted awake, his hand coming up to fend off a blow. But, no, it was alright. It was Jonathon Lendon, Helm's officer. He moved his hand across his brow, concealing his attempt to fend himself as simply trying to wipe away the sleep from his eyes.

"Sorry to disturb you sir," he said.

"That's fine," he replied, "I was just having some very bad memories."

"Oh," Jonathon smiled, "The Captain couldn't contact you on your comm badge, seeings as you gave it to me, and so I came to wake you up."

Adam grunted. "What does the old codger want?"

"The Bajoran government has come across a Federation shuttle craft that crash landed they guess seven years ago in the province we are in and so they asked if a team could be sent to investigate the crash," Jonathon said, amazingly not even taking a breath.

"And I suppose you volunteered us?" he rolled his eyes.

Jonathon just let a huge smile play across his face.

* * *

Jonathon and Adam proceeded on foot until they were slowly coming over a rise. They weren't that far from the shuttle now, as Adam's tricorder told them.

"Another 15 meters in that direction," Adam said, pointing a little to the left.

"As I was saying," Jonathon continued his story he had been telling his superior before he had been interrupted, "So there I was, at the Sea of Tranquility at Lunar. Left for dead by the ship I was on. I had been spinning there for a couple hours, my zero-g suit almost out of air. Then, along comes an Orian Syndicate transport. With some very…big…women if you get my meaning. I mean, what a turn in luck! I was one minute dying, the next I was on board a ship with green animal women."

"Is that where you lost your 'V' card?" Adam asked, really not all that interested.

"Why yes," Jonathon said, "It was."

Adam turned to him and said, "And you're a liar."

"What?" the Ensign asked, a shocked look on his face.

"I'm a keen observer of people," he said, "And you have the look of a man who hasn't had his eyes opened yet."

"Your right," Jonathon said, "I was actually captured by the Ferangi."

"They should have kept you," he grumbled.

"What was that sir?" Jonathon asked and Adam hastened to reply, "We should be there by now."

Indeed, they came over the rise and they could see the crashed runabout. Long and almost triangular in shape and dimension. It had been there for a long time by the looks of it. The ground around the crater that had been carved out of the ground by the impact of the ship had resettled in place and grass grew as if the shuttle was no more then a weird shaped boulder.

The ship was tilted slightly upwards. The viewport to the front had been blown outwards and the sides had been scrapped and torn, reveling some wiring that was cut. The front of the nacelles had crumpled like aluminum smashed by being thrown against a brick wall. The hatch had been broken outwards.

"Looks like a mess," Jonathon remarked, taking in the scene with wide-eyed wonder.

"Jonathon," Adam ordered, pushing some buttons on the tricorder, "Go into the shuttle and see if there is any power at all in there."

"Right-o sir," he said, jogging down the slope over the craft.

Adam followed, taking care not to slip off the rocks there were broken and jagged. Suddenly, the tricorder started to beep faster and faster, until he glanced down and noticed a buildup of energy close by.

"Wait Lendon," he called out, "Something is wrong here."

"What do you mean?" he said, turning slightly to take a glance at him as he reached their side of the shuttle, "Nothings wrong-"

He gave a slight gasp as an energy discharge hit him and he toppled to the ground, unconscious upon impact of the fire.

"_Invincible_!" Adam shouted, jumping back as a phaser fire hit near his feet, "We are under attack! Need immediate transport out of here!"

"Can't lock on sir," Gardner's voice came over the comm, "There is an energy shield that just went up near you. We can-"

The transmission was cut off, and he dived as fire passed where his head was. Landing on the ground, he rolled, avoiding three more burst of fire. _Blast you Tryke_, he berated himself, _Never go anywhere without a phaser!_

He rolled to the side of the runabout, stood, and as he did so, a man wearing a black robe, hood covering his face, jumped from around the back of the shuttle. Wielding a phaser rifle, he pivoted on his foot to bring his weapon to bear, but Adam was faster. His gloved right hand came up and made contact with the man's jaw, striking with such force that the breaking of bone sounded like an explosion. He grabbed the phaser rifle and yanked it free, and brought it down to aim at the man, when he was hit from the back and he toppled into the dirt, thinking about how soft the dirt around there actually was.

**Act 2**

Tryke's eyes snapped open and he sprang up in his bed, looking around him. He was in his room back on board, and he looked over to the walls, although it was difficult through the sweat on his face that was pouring down into his eyes.

He blinked and said to himself, "What a terrible dream."

"Computer," he said, "Time."

"0500 hours and 59 minutes," the computer's monotone voice replied, and Adam wiped his face with his hand.

"Alright," he grumbled, standing up and walking towards the shower, "I guess I'll take my shower now."

* * *

Adam walked into the mess hall, and bee-lined towards his chosen replicator, near the observation portal. As he walked, he noticed the half glances thrown his direction. He rolled his eyes and stepped up to the replicator as an Lieutenant that looked oddly familiar stepped away from the replicator with a bowl of steaming hot oatmeal in his hand.

"Computer," he ordered, "An omelette with a side of three pieces of bacon, chewy, not crunch. And, three slices of toast, white bread. And a cup of hot coco."

"Please state what type of omelette."

Adam frowned slightly. "What?"

"There are 44 varieties of omelette on record," the computer explained, "Please state variety desired."

"Alright," Adam rolled his eyes, "Make it a _Hangtown Fry_."

With a flurry of sparkling matter, a tray appeared and Adam grabbed the tray and looked for a table to sit at. Off in a corner was Jonathon, talking to three crew, that kept throwing glances in his direction. He knew what they were talking about, and steeling himself, marched over to them. Seeing him make his way, the officers, a human male, and two Bajorans, stood up and walked out of the room with a huff.

Adam walked up to the ensign, who looked a little shell shocked. Placing his tray down, he sat, and taking a look at Jonathon, said, "What's up?"

"Nothing," he said, "Nothing at all."

"Good ensign," he replied, and began to work on the bacon.

Jonathon fidgeted in his seat for a bit. Adam tried to ignore him. But, finding he couldn't eat with this Ensign fidgeting and making an undesirable racket, lifted his eyes up to him.

"I order you to tell me what is on your mind," he said, pulling rank on the Ensign.

"Is it true?" he asked.

"A lot of things are true," Adam remarked, "You'll have to be a little more specific then that."

"You know what I am talking about," Jonathon said, "Those three I was just talking too, they served on the _Saladin_."

Adam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "What part do you want me to confirm for you?" he asked, afraid of the questions that would follow.

"Did you exterminate the populations of Sentarik IX, Yelbro and Gamerden III in the Delta Quadrant?"

"Well?" Lendon demanded, leaning forward slightly so his voice wouldn't carry to any of the other tables. "Did you?"

"Do you think I am capable of causing such atrocities on my own?" Tryke asked.

Jonathon sighed, "No."

"Then, I couldn't have," Adam replied, "because that is the truth to you."

Jonathon smiled, relieved as the answer was a satisfactory one. Adam leaned back, thinking. For some reason, he didn't feel right about having those four officers on board the ship. Not so much they were on the ship, but, for some reason, he felt they shouldn't be here period.

"Well," Jonathon said, "My shift starts in ten minutes. I better get to the bridge."

Adam nodded and said, "You know, I'm not hungry anymore. I think I'll come with you. I'll just get this tray put back in the replicator."

As he hurried off to do that, Jonathon stared at the back of his senior officer and friend. Commander Tryke had not really answered his question. He had actually avoided it. Was there some truth behind it. And, he also had seemed disturbed when he saw the other officers. Almost as one who has seen ghosts.

What dark secrets could this man be holding?

Adam walked up to him and slapping his shoulder, said, "Lead the way Johnny Boy."

The doors slid open, and they stepped out into the corridor. Then, suddenly, the doors slid shut, and the whole corridor changed, to a dark hallway of metal and pipes, with a sickly green light shimmering around them.

"What the-," Jonathon swore, "Where are we?"

He turned to Adam, and saw to his bewilderment his superior grab his temple, squeezing his eyes shut and his face contort in obvious pain.

"Are you alright?" he asked, but, even as he did, the pain seemed to leave.

"I'm fine," Adam replied, "And, for your information, I know exactly where we are."

"Oh?" Lendon raised an eyebrow.

"We are on Borg Super-Matrix One," he replied, "the most advanced Borg ship in operation 20 years ago."

* * *

"They seem to be in some sort of bi-comma state," Sarah King said, scanning the forehead of first Adam Tryke, then Jonathon Lendon, "And frankly, I can't make hide or hare of what this strange reading I'm getting is."

"Looks like some sort of bio-neural energy." Joshua said, looking at the medical consol at the wavy red and green lines that seemed to bee also static, "But, much more advanced."

"That's as good a guess as any," Sarah sighed, handing a hypospray to Nurse Nelix, who took the hypospray and replaced the empty canister with a filled one, "But, another strange thing is that there also seems to be activity going on in both men's brains."

"Activity?" Stubbs questioned, "Are you sure? You said they were in a comatose state."

"We really don't know that muich about the brain during commas," she said, and pointed at the screen, "So it is not too far reached to hypothesis that. And look here. Both men are aware and they seem to be reacting simultaneously."

"Huh," Stubbs huffed, "So you're saying they both should be wide awake."

Sarah nodded, "For all intents and purposes, they should be. The wounds they inflicted couldn't knock them out like this."

"And the two men we took into custody aren't talking either," Joshua said frustrated, "It's maddening."

"If only you could get into their minds and see what is going on," Nelix said, shrugging her scaly shoulders.

Joshua's face lit up. "I think we can."

* * *

"You want me to look into their minds?" Jemma Grax asked, throwing a bewildered look at Joshua and Sarah, "But, we Betazoids need to be given permission before we attempt such a thing, either from the patient or his family."

"I realize that," Stubbs told her, "but, as his superior officer, I can also give such an order. But, all I need to know is if you can."

"Yeah," she shrugged, "Should be no problem."

* * *

Jemma Grax stood by the two men, looking from one to the other, and she at once felt their confusion and fear.

"They're certainly unsettled about something," she informed the Captyain, who stood by her, "Now if you don't mind, I would like you to leave here sir."

"Why?" Joshua asked.

"I need to focus on them fully," she replied, "And, there are such barriers set up around their minds, it might take me a while to break through. Besides, if I get into any, shall I say, certain _thoughts_ running through Mr. Lendon's mind, well, I don't want you to see my reaction."

"Unfortunately I understand," Joshua said, "I was once young and hormonal driven. Call me when you have made any progress."

"Of course," she smiled and didn't even throw him a look as he left the room.

Sarah took her cue and also left the Betazoid to them.

**Act 3**

There are many forms of telepathy, and many different forms for Betazoids to enter the mind. One such form is called Dom'ron. It was an ancient Betazoid word meaning, "Physical Minds." It required that the telepath make physical contact with the skin of the person or person they are working with.

Jemma lightly pressed her fingertips onto the foreheads of the two gentlemen lying on the bio-beds. She would have grabbed both by the hand, which was a potential better conduit for such an effort, but, she knew that Tryke didn't want anyone taking off his glove on his left hand. Not that she understood why, but, she was willing to accommodate his wishes.

She then focused on the breathing of the two men, then on her own. It was necessary for her to find her center before allowing herself to open up and enter the minds of them.

But, even as she attempted to enter their minds, she was met by a barrier like a brick wall. She struggled to breach it, but, the harder she fought, the harder it was to maintain her composure.

Sweat began to bead down her face, and her arms began to tremble. Soon, her hair was beginning to clump together as the heat from her body began to produce steam. But, she was making progress. The barriers began to crumble.

Then, just as she was able to glimpse the inner mind, her head snapped back and she fell to the ground, her mind leaving her body.

* * *

"Listen, I'm a reasonable person," Nathanial Trust said, pacing slowly around the humanoid sitting in front of him, "Heck, I can understand your attacking Tryke. He is an arrogant fool that I have myself wanted to clobber his smug face. But, wanting to, and doing, is two different things. He is a Starfleet officer, and so is Ensign Lendon. Tell me what I want to know, and you might just go free."

"Like I said," the man said, an alien of pale skin, no hair of any kind, wearing red robes, "Even if I wanted to talk to you, I can't."

"Why not?" Trust demanded, slamming his fists down onto the armrests of the alien, who had to pull his arms out of the way to avoid begin struck, "You haven't given me a good reason."

"The Regent would kill me," he simply said, "If I broke my vows of silence."

"Are you an assassin?" Trust grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him up until they were so close his breath was warming the aliens chin, "Are you saboteurs? Are you raiders?"

"You are wasting your time, Commander," the other alien, a short human with silver hair said, messing with his watch on his arm, "You aren't gonna torture us, nor are you going to execute us. Now, the Regent, he knows how to extract information."

"We are an enlightened species," Trust said, thrusting the alien back in his seat, and wheeled on the human.

"You are a stupid species," he retorted.

"How so?" Trust demanded.

"For one thing," he said, twiddling with the time as he raised his black eyes, "He would never allow us to bring in anything. You never know what a shoe might do. Or a pen. Or….a watch."

He pushed a button, and Trust stumbled back as the image of the interior of a Borg cube hit him. He hit the back of a wall, and then fell flat on his face, his conscious mind giving way to the scenes in front him. As he fell, the two guards at once began working to drop the force field around the interrogation chamber.

"Time to go," the human said, then pushing another button, the two vanished in a flash of purple light, right as two yellow-white phaser beams cut through them.

**Act 4**

Adam was surprised to see first Jemma Grax, and then Nathanial Trust join the both of them in the hallway. They were just as shocked, looking wildly around at their new surroundings. Then, Trust glared at Adam when he saw him by Lendon; staring at an interface.

"Where are we Mr. Tryke?" Trust demanded, storming up to him.

"Borg Super-Matrix One," Tryke answered, "But, it's impossible."

"How so?" Jemma asked, stepping up to his side as well.

"I witnessed it's destruction 19 years ago," he replied.

"How can that be?" Trust demanded in disbelief, "We are standing right here. On this cube."

"And there are drones around here," Jonathon added, pressing against the wall. Terror was in his eyes.

"Are you sure?" Jemma asked, looking around, "I can't hear any thoughts on board."

"One passed through here only twenty minutes ago," he said, "If we could only leave this forsaken place!"

Several Borg drones appeared at the end of the hallway, and began to advance towards them in their methodical steps. Nathanial pressed against the wall as well, knowing that if he didn't appear hostile, they would pass them by. However, Jemma and Adam refused to move, and soon the Borg were right on top of them.

"What are you guys doing?" he demanded, "they'll see you as a potential target."

"They're not here," Jemma said, and the Borg walked passed her. Not only passed, but through Adam and her. Almost like specters of the past.

Jonathon, refusing to believe it, grabbed onto Adam's arm and pulled him aside.

"If they are not here?" he asked, "Then what are we doing here?"

"It seems the people who attacked you were able to suppress you both mentally and send you back through your thoughts to this point in time."

"But why is that?" Nathanial asked, "Why this point in time?"

They fell silent for a minute. Thinking about why they would be brought here to this place? Jemma suddenly stiffened and turned to Adam.

"What happened here?" she asked, "You brought us here with your memory. Why here?"

Adam closed his eyes and took several breaths. Despite his outward calm, they could see his efforts to resist the pain of a memory. It was so strong an effort, they could see a vein in his cheek bulge for a second before he calmed his inward turmoil enough to answer.

Then, six Borg marched forward, two in front, two to the sides, and two bringing up the rear of their small procession. Between their living box, sixteen children, none older then twelve years, were being lead. Lead to a fate that caused all but one small boy to near panic. This small boy, perhaps no older than eight, with blond hair dirtied by oil and grim, and a skinny frame, walked, trying to encourage his young friends.

Adam walked with them, and the others, transfixed by the morbid sight, followed him. Soon, they arrived at a small chamber, where a table was fixed in middle of the room. The small boy was now laid on the bed, his once vibrant ruddy complexion dead, his skin taking on a deathly grey tone. His hand was being lifted by a Borg, and they were fixing assimilation tubules into his left arm. On a table nearby was his right eyeball, and they had not yet replaced his eye in his empty eye socket.

"Twenty-Five years ago," he slowly said, his color in his cheeks draining, "someone very close to me was assimilated. His name was Tiberius Oliver. He was a friend of mine. I never saw him again. He was lost that day; never to return."

"Oh," Jemma gasped, "It is so much clearer to me now. You obviously felt enough about his that you have closed so much of yourself off to the world."

"We were the same age," he said, more to himself than anyone else, lost in his a distant memory, "We were closer then brothers. We were inseparable. I looked away for one minute as we were playing. I looked back, and he was gone."

"That's terrible," Trust said, "Why have you never said anything about this to anyone before?"

"This is…was my burden to carry alone," he replied, "I have never been able to get close to very many people. I choose my friend carefully, for I will not be destroyed like that again. I don't take betrayal lightly, even on a small scale. It all originates….here."

"Well," Jemma said, putting her hand on his shoulder, "now that the cat is out of the bag; your healing can now begin."

* * *

The scene shifted in front of their eyes, and before they knew it; they were in a field, a field that was surrounded on all sides by evergreen trees. The field was grassy, but they could see lines that had been worn into the field by feet running or walking the same way over an extended time.

"I've never seen this place before," Adam remarked, glancing around.

"This is Georgia," Nathanial said in a shocked tone, "Outside of Atlanta. Near my home. I came to play baseball here until I joined Starfleet."

"You played baseball?" Jonathon asked, looking around at the trees surrounding the field.

"Yeah," Trust said, walking across the field and towards lines. The closer they came, the most distinct these lines became, and soon they began to see white mats of where the bases were, "I was going to become a baseball player. I always dreamed of doing it."

"Why didn't you?" Jemma asked, running her fingers through her black hair.

"When my Mom died," he said, reaching the home plate, "she made me swear to join Starfleet on her deathbed. I have always wondered what would have happened if I had decided to follow my dream."

"If it is all the same Commander," Jonathon said, trying to keep up with the others, "It wouldn't have been the same."

"But why were we drawn here?" Jemma asked, "Did something bad happen here or something?"

Trust shrugged, bending to the earth, "I don't remember."

Then, in front of him on the plate appeared a red-headed child of 15, holding a wooden bat in his hands with a firm grip. They looked and there was a man, maybe in his early 50's, holding a ball and wearing a mitt.

"Dad?" Trust asked in surprise, his eyebrows furrowing and he stood, "What is he doing here? I only played with Dudley Goodheart and Samantha Greenblow. They were my best friends growing up," he explained to the others.

"Let's see it play out," Jemma said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I think it is time to get back to the house, Nathan" Trusts' father called out, the voice not so clear as to sound like they were present, but clear enough for them to here, "That storm is still coming up."

"A couple minutes more," little Nathanial yelled back.

"It's almost on top of us!"

"No! No! No!" Nathanial shouted, "We stay put! Until I finish my practicing for the day."

A strong wind began to flow through the vision, and the sky began to darken. There was a sharp clap of thunder. The dad was getting antsy but his son stood there, like a rock, his bat ready to swing.

"We got to go!" the older man shouted, his voice barely reaching them.

"Just one more!" Nathanial shouted back, "Then I'll be satisfied!"

"Fine!" Dad shouted, "One more! But that's all."

Nathanial nodded and the dad wound back his arm and threw as hard as he could. The ball came slower than it would have normally, as it raced into the wind to reach the bat. Nathanial swung his bat as hard as he could, and with a loud thud of its own, sent it flying back. Straight for his father. Nathanial threw back his head and roared in triumph.

But, he never caught it. There was a flash of light and they for half a second saw the forks of a lightning blast engulf the area where his father was. Then, the older man was on the ground, smoke rising from his body. Nathanial, not having heard the thunder clap because of his adrenalin nor seeing his father being struck, laughed to see his father on the ground, and not realizing the predicament his father was in, assumed he had been hit by the ball. He turned and walked away, disappearing into the trees.

The bodies vanished, and Trust took a few stepped back like a man stunned from a punch sustained to the head. He nearly collapsed but his colleagues caught him and helped his sit down.

"I-I remember now," he breathed, "I had buried it so deep I had forgotten about it."

"So what happened to your father?" Jemma asked.

"He lived," Trust replied, "But, he was never completely healed. He had Alzheimer's the rest of his life. The charge from the lightning had severed several neural links in his brain. I can't believe I forgot about it."

"Well," Jemma said softly, "Now you can forgive yourself."

"How can I?" he asked, "I left him there when he was hurt and could have died. I didn't follow his advice and counsel. And he turned into a vegetable all because of me."

"You adapted," Adam said, "You learned from the mistake and made yourself a better person because of it."

"Why Tryke," Trust snorted, "I didn't think you the sentimental type."

"I'm not," he replied, "I am just relaying the truth to you."

* * *

Once again, the scene changed. They were now standing in the hallway of a building, a building of white walls and wooden floors. Giant picture frames of men, old and wicked looking, hung from the walls. The hallway was dark, with every two meters a small wall light illuminated the way.

"If we follow the pattern of events thus far," Jemma said, looking at the picture of a man with square rimmed glasses, "I believe this is a memory of your's Ensign Lendon."

Jonathon closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "This is the Orphanage on Royal Caster Street in downtown London.," he said slowly, "I was first brought here when I was five. My parents both died in a shuttle crash, and none of my relatives wanted anything to do with me. So, I was brought here."

"You never told me you were an orphan," Adam said, tilting his head as he looked at the young man with new eyes.

"You couldn't possibly know everything about me in a three week time," Jonathon said, "I never had any good role models in my life until I went to the Academy. That's one reason I have hung around you as much as I do."

"But why this specific time were we brought here?" Jemma asked him.

"I think it will soon become apparent," Jonathon said.

And indeed, they soon saw a teenager of probably 17 years, walking around on crutches. His leg was incased in a metallic cast, held up slightly to his front. He walked, grimacing as he tried to maneuver his way past some of the social workers in the building.

"Why do you have a cast?" Trust asked.

"We weren't near any hospitals," Jonathon replied, "So, when I broke my leg after tripping down the stairs, the nurse at the orphanage didn't have the training needed to fix it, except by setting it."

They followed him as he headed for the bathroom. The door slid open, and he entered the room, and began to make to one of the stalls at the end of the room. The door opened behind them, and three big burly boys came into the room. They had scars on their arms and cheeks, tokens of rough play they engaged in constantly.

Jonathon rolled his eyes and said, "What now?"

"We'll be doing the questioning here," the smallest of the three said, "Now Lemon-head, you failed us."

"I don't know what you are talking," he said, and turning his back on them, continued walking towards the stall.

"Don't you turn your back on us!' he snapped his finger, and Jonathon was lifted off the ground by the two bigger bullies and slammed against the wall so hard that even though they were only seeing a memory, the four Starfleet officers flinched.

"Why don't you just tell me what is going on," Jonathon reasoned, "And we can settle our differences like mature people."

"You didn't put the correct answers on our History homework," the bully said, "We all failed the assignment. Because of you Lemon-head. Remember what happened last time you put the wrong answers on our papers?"

"You threw me down the stairs and I broke my leg in four places," Jonathon rolled his eyes.

"Your smart Lemon-head," he said, "But, did you know what happens to a man who gets punched in his manhood a couple of times? Hard?"

"You already did that to me," he rolled his eyes, "Now, thanks to you, my 22 year old girlfriend Mary Santee decided to dump me, because she would like one day to be a mom."

The bully scratched his head, "You're right. We have done about everything possible to you. How about….you decide your punishment."

"I pee all over your," he said, "That sounds like a good idea."

"No," he shook his head, "But, you did give me a good idea. Boys, throw him against the toilet until it breaks. Then keep doing it with all the urinals all well."

"Good idea George," one of them smiled, and they carried him off to one of the stalls, where soon they heard a thud and the breaking of porcelain and water gushing forth and a blood curdling cry of pain.

Jonathon turned on his heel and ran out of the room, clutching his chest. They followed him out, and he began to gasp, saying, "I need out! I can't breath."

**Act 5**

"We can't just leave them like that!" Sam Mollen said, thumping the table with his clenched fist, "We need them."

"No one is disputing that fact," Stubbs said, "But, what can we do about it? Their synaptic pathways are destabilizing. Starting with Lendon then moving on to Tryke, and now Trust is beginning to feel the effects."

"The only one not effected so far is Jemma," Sarah said, keeping an eye on the padd in her hand, which gave her the ability to also monitor the conditions of her patients.

"I might have an explanation," Merlek suddenly spoke up, up to this time having remained silent, his hands together in a meditation position, "On both the reason behind the attack and what is happening to them."

"Elaborate," Joshua said, turning his gaze towards the Vulcan.

"When I was assigned at DS9," he said, "There were some talk among the senior staff about several events involving the Mirror Universe. Captain Sisko and two others of the senior staff; Kira Nerys and Doctor Bashir were taking to the alternate universe. There were two factions at war. The Terran Rebellion and the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance."

"I remember hearing about that," Sam said, "If I remember correctly, they even stole some technology from our side."

"A crude but accurate statement," Merlek nodded, "The leader of the Alliance was their Worf. His title was Regent."

"I don't understand," Joshua remarked with a raised eyebrow, "What does that have to do with my officers?"

"During his interrogation with the prisoners before they escaped," Merlek explained, "They continually referred to their employer; the Regent."

"You're insinuating that they have made an incursion into our Galaxy?" Sam asked.

"Indeed Commander," Merlek agreed, "I am indeed 'insinuating' such."

"But why would they?" Sam asked, raising both hands in confusion, "What could they gain from it?"

"I have never been able to grasp the human ability to forget something they just said," the Vulcan muttered, "As you point out earlier, they've stole technology before. So, logic dictates that it is probable for them to attempt such a thing again. And who better to steal technology from then Starfleet officers."

"Let's say your correct," Sarah said, looking up from her padd, "Starfleet officers wouldn't give technology away. It would be futile."

"Unless," Merlek pointed out, "You rendered them unconscious. The human mind is much more susceptible to memory extraction. They could have been successful if not for Tryke."

"But they knocked him out too," Sam said, his accent making his statement sound like a dried cactus, "How could he have prevented them from succeeding?"

"Not our place to discuss his biology," Sarah said, "Doctor/patient confidentiality."

"Not yet anyways," Joshua remarked, "But, in a month, that'll change. Anyways, you were going to talk about their condition."

"I hope not to steal his thunder," Sarah said, "But, the weapon used has a delayed reaction. But, once the weapon activates, a cascade effect begins to dismantle the synaptic pathways."

"You are correct Doctor," Merlek replied, "But, with the Councilor's disciplined mind, she will have to still be inside their minds once Mr. Tryke goes brain dead in order for it to have effect. Not only that but she was only sucked in while trying to reach their minds."

"Sounds plausible," Stubbs remarked, "Is their a way to stop them from dying?"

"I have tried everything," Sarah sighed, "From stimulants to neural suppressants. Nothing works."

"Not for you," Merlek interrupted, "But there is for me."

"Explain," Stubbs ordered.

"Commander Tryke and myself have a unique mental bond," he explained, drumming the tips of his fingers against each other, "If I attempt a mind meld with Commander Tryke, I should be able to bring him back. He is, after all, the shatter point of their link."

"But they have only 45 minutes left," Sarah said, "That won't be enough time."

"If I can reach him," Merlek firmly said, "I can bring them back."

"How long would you need to prepare?" Joshua asked.

"Ten minutes," Merlek stated.

It didn't take much thinking to know what to do. "Get on it."

* * *

Merlek's fingertips touched each other, forming a small triangle of flesh. His connection with Tryke would be the key to successfully taking them all out of their current state. He had only 20 minutes left, but, he was certain of his abilities, confident in what he was about to do.

He was finally in the state of being he needed to be for this type of mind meld. The world was all but shut out. The sounds of people, the voices of Doctor King and her staff were but a distant echo in his mind. He was alone on a mountain, above the clouds of confusion and conflict. His heart sounded like a gong on the top of Mount Seleya sounded forth the beginning or end of some ritual.

He slowly walked forward to Adam's side and slowly placed his fingertips on the points that would allow him access to his mind.

"My mind to your mind," he said, feeling the barrier that only tightened upon his contact, "My thoughts to your thoughts. Our minds are merging….My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts. Our minds are merging….."

His body was beginning to tremble under the strain he was putting into trying to break the barrier. It was refusing to bend, and he could feel something like a mental hand slapping away his thoughts. But, he redoubled his efforts.

"MY MIND TO YOUR MIND!" his voice was rising, sweat beginning to bead his forehead, "MY THOUGHTS TO YOUR THOUGHTS! OUR MINDS ARE MERGING! OUR…MINDS…ARE…ONE!"

Like a tank, he plunged into the small gap that had opened in the barrier and began to fight it. Trying to open it. But, the barrier kept on trying to close on him. He needed assistance.

"Hear my voice Adam!" he gasped, "Come to me! Break the barrier that closes your mind! Assist me in helping save you! Help!"

At that moment, the barrier began to buckle, struggling to hold on. Merlek knew he could not hold it for much longer. His strength was ebbing, and he could pour no more into it, using everything he had to simply keep the barrier from crushing his mind. Then, just as he felt he would lose, the barrier exploded outwards towards him, and the meld was broken.

He staggered backwards, clutching the side of a the bed weakly to keep himself from falling. The others had not woken, but, their life signs were stabilizing.

"You did it!" Sarah cried out in joy, "I could kiss you Merlek!"

"I would rather you restrain your emotional outburst," he gasped, allowing himself to slide onto the floor, "I am, after all a married man."

* * *

"Did they get any information?" Adam asked, propped up slightly on a pillow, still lying in the biobed for the second day after the mind meld.

"Not that I could tell," Joshua said, "You once again successfully fought off death Mr. Tryke."

"It sure doesn't feel that way," he muttered, "It feels like I got hit by a fat Klingon woman."

Joshua smiled and patting Adam on the chest said, "I'll see you on the bridge tomorrow morning."


End file.
